The Joker Series
by Mad-Friend
Summary: Gordon's abilities as the practical joker of the family, knows no bounds. No one is safe, no prank to daring to be risked. Blue Rinse kicks starts the series, which culminates in 'Payback Time', as Gordon's family turn the tables on him. FINAL Chapter up.
1. Blue Rinse

Standard disclaimer: Carlton owns the rights to Thunderbirds. My sincerest respect and admiration goes to Gerry Anderson and his team for creating the best show on earth. 

 BLUE RINSE.

This kick starts the 'Joker versus' series in which Gordon's ability to give in to his joker instincts knows no bounds. This lovable rogue just can't help himself, as each of his family is going to find out. It will culminate in the final story "Payback Time." when Gordon's family turn the tables on him. 

No one is safe, and no prank to daring to be risked, starting with Scott. 

"Gordon; get in here will ya."

Gordon had been waiting for his brother's call, and grinned into his watch. The image peering back at him showed his stunt had worked even better than he'd hoped, when he put the chemical into the shampoo bottle.

Don't know what your problem is." Gordon uttered, admiring his handy work, while leaning against the bedroom door frame, in case he needed to move fast. "It matches your top perfectly."

"You gonna give me that antidote?"

Ignoring the slight menacing tone that was creeping in, Gordon continued to lean nonchalantly against the door frame; certain he retained the upper hand.

"Take your time; I'll grow a beard while I'm waiting."

"I'm thinking about it."

"How about I make this real easy for you," Scott said, bringing his hand from behind his back and dangling the gold medal in front of him, "you give me the anti-dote and I won't melt this baby down."

He had Gordon's full attention. "You wouldn't?"

"Want to try me?"

Gordon's face turned green and he swallowed hard. "You're bluffing."

"You reckon?"

"Give me two minutes."

"You've got one."

"Okay; okay."

"Fifty two seconds now; and counting." Scott smiled as Gordon bolted from the room. He was still counting down as Gordon tore back into his room, panting, and clutching a small phial. Scott held out his hand in an authoritive manner, a steely look in his blue eyes. "You cut that fine bro'."

"Gimme the medal."

"Uh; uh." Scott shook his head, "not until I've checked this out."

"You don't trust me?"

"You surprised?"

"My medal's at stake here."

"Wrong; your life's at stake here."

Gordon gulped, tension about him as he watched Scott disappear into his bathroom, not seeing the smile Scott was sporting. '_Sweat little bro.' _The smile turned to a grimace as he caught a glimpse of his hair in the mirror. Hanging the medal from the corner of it he bent his head and poured the contents of the phial over his hair.

********

Gordon paced back and forth , looking at his watch for the eighth time in as many minutes. Why was it so quiet in there? He pressed his ear to the door. What was taking so long? What if it didn't work? There was no guarantee it would. He felt the sweat prickling between his shoulder blades at the thought of what would happen if the anti-dote didn't deliver the promised solution. Gordon glanced at his watch again and jumped back as the bathroom door swished open. His amber eyes flicked to the thatch of his brother's hair, frowning when he encountered the towel. From the expression in the blue eyes it was impossible to tell if the anti-dote had worked.

"Well?"

Slowly Scott pulled the towel away and held out the medal with his free hand. "I'm feeling generous……..and Gordon?" he said nonchalantly, halting his brother in his tracks as Gordon shot for the exit, grabbing at the medal on route. Gordon turned slowly, waiting.

"Just thought you'd like to know Dad's taking a couple of days of next week……….he's left me in charge……." 


	2. The Joker versus John

THE JOKER VERSUS JOHN.  

His face a mask of concentration, he pulled on the tight fitting latex gloves and unscrewed the cap of the bottle. Holding his breath he slowly tipped the contents of the phial into it, a smile of relief crossed his tanned features as the white odorless liquid slipped obediently down the neck of the bottle. '_Thankyou Brains, I owe you one.'  _he mouthed, screwing the cap back on and giving the bottle a good shake. If it hadn't been for his LMD stereo breaking down, he'd never have been in the lab at the right moment to come across this latest discarded experiment of Brains'. He had wasted little time filling a phial, once he'd known what the white liquid did.

Checking his watch, Gordon Tracy slipped the empty phial into the back pocket of his jeans, returned the other bottle to its rightful place, and then headed for the pool, whistling tunelessly.

******** 

This was what he'd been waiting for John thought as he looked out over the balcony into the pool below. He'd been counting the days. Tucking his towel and suntan lotion under his arm he sprinted down the curved steps, two at a time, and crossed the terrace. Throwing himself down on the nearest vacant lounger, he peeled of his shirt and shorts, liberally dosed himself with his suntan lotion, slipped his shades on and leaned back with a smile of contentment.

That smile remained as he listened to the background sounds of Tin-Tin, Scott, Virgil and Gordon frolicking in the pool.

"Here you are son."

He flicked open his eyes to see the tall frame of his parent placing a laden tray of assorted treats and drinks, on the table beside him.

 "Your Grandma seems to think you deserve special treatment after your month on TB5." Jeff said with a warm smile, "and I second that."

"Gee; thanks Dad, thank Gran' for me, too, will you."

"We're all coming out, so you'll be able to do that yourself. John?"

"Hmm?" he mumbled through a mouth full of crumbs.

"Don't eat all the chocolate ones, hmm?"

"Sure Dad."

Replete, John leaned back, the sounds of activity around him melding into a fuzzy haze as he began to drift off.

"Scott! Get your hands off my cake."

"How'd you know it was me?"

John's eyes remained closed as he replied, "'Cause I'm psychic….."

"Yeah; right….."

"……and you're greedy. Besides I gauged it was you by the size of your shadow."

Both looked across at the deep rumble of their fathers' chuckle, mingled with the light one of their Grandmothers'. Both responded with grins of their own. John watched as Scott had rejoined the activity in the pool, before rolling over again.

"You gonna spend the morning vegetating, or get some exercise in?"

The good humoured tone of Gordon's voice cut across his drowsy state. "I'm gonna vegetate," he replied indolently, without looking up, his ears alert for the next thing from his brother. There was always a next thing with Gordon. 

"You could use some more lotion, you're burning."

John doubted that, but, "You want to do the honours then?" he heard some mumbled excuse followed by a splash. "I guess that means no," he said shrugging into a sitting position and reaching for the bottle. It wasn't like Gordon not to be helpful, but what the heck….He did a fair job of coating his back and what he missed his father obligingly assisted with.

"Some people are so lazy; still what can you expect, lolling about on a spaceship all day…"

John stretched lethargically, rolled over and peered up at Gordon. "You trying to say something bro'?"

"You need a translator?"

"With all the languages I speak; are you kidding?"

"So why don't you get your lazy butt in the pool, before you melt here?"

"Tut, tut. You need a refund from charm school."

"And you need some exercise," Gordon bounced back, scooping up a handful of water and flinging it at John.

"Hey; cut that out. You'll pay for that."

Gordon's actions had the desired effect as his brother leaped good humouredly from the lounger and into the pool, knowing, as he hit the water he wouldn't have a hope of catching Gordon, but John was still prepared to give the aquanaut a run for his money, and judging from the sounds around him, he wasn't doing so badly either. He took the sounds for encouragement, until he heard the odd laugh. Looking up he saw the expressions being directed at him, the collective dropped jaws and he came to a halt in the water, looking questioningly at them.

"What?" he asked into the stunned silence.

The creak of the lounger brought his head round to his parent, "Dad?"

"Oh my!"

"Gran'?"

Into his line of vision strolled his water loving brother, dripping water everywhere, wearing a grin that was synonymous with one of his pranks.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on…..what's the big deal?" '_Damn_!' Making a quick check downwards, John breathed a sigh of relief on finding he still wore his trunks._ 'So if it wasn't that……' _

"I think you'd better take a look in the mirror." Scott advised, swimming over, with Virgil close behind him. Behind them they heard the gravelly tones of their father admonishing Gordon. But even as he moved John discovered he didn't need a mirror, he saw the streak on his arm, correction, arms, and there were others developing. His skin was starting to take on an interesting shade of green. The impish grin of his brother wasn't deterred by the glare John was directing at him, if anything it only served to encourage him, "Bet the Hulk'd be proud to call you bro'"

"Well I'd be happy to hand you over to him…..if this stuff stains….." John growled mildly, pulling himself from the pool.

"Relax will ya. You know your trouble……"

"Yeah it goes by the name of Gordon."

"Funny."

"There _is_ an antidote for that." Scott said, joining them by the side of the pool. It wasn't a question, the memory of Gordon's last prank still uppermost on his mind.

"John? Perhaps you should go and wash that stuff off."

"I was just about to Dad." John replied, his eyes on Gordon, "then I have some unfinished business to attend to." he said making for the shower block/changing rooms by the pool.

Jeff waited until his son was out of ear shot, "What's this about an antidote?" he addressed Gordon, "I rubbed some of that on his back." He didn't need to add anything more as several pairs of eyes flicked to his hands, which so far remained unaffected.

"Relax Dad; it only reacts to certain chemicals, chlorine being one of them."

"And is there an antidote?"

Gordon shrugged, "No problem, I'll go get it…….the trouble with people round here is they have no sense of humour anymore."

"I'll give him sense of humour," Jeff said, as he watched his fourth born amble towards the house.

******** 

"So where the deuce is he?" John asked, tapping his foot impatiently and staring at his watch again, his normal patient, easy going nature, evaporating fast.

Jefferson Tracy shrugged, "I'll go and chase him up; he's probably had to wait for Brains to finish work on those blue prints for the hover boards first."

John threw himself onto his lounger, aware of the fascinated stares of his Grandmother and siblings. Folding his arms in a defensive gesture, he stared out across the pool, avoiding all eye contact. The green streaks had proved immune to soap and shower gel. '_How much longer?' "You guys do me a favour, will you?"_

"Sure John." Scott was the first to offer.

"Not one word to Alan; right!"

All agreed.

John directed his gaze at Tin-Tin. She blushed and looked away. "I wouldn't John."

Satisfied he pushed himself up from the lounger and was just about to head indoors in search of his errant brother when he saw the two figures approaching. He halted, waiting until they reached him.

"Tell him."

"Tell me what?" John looked from one to the other.

"Go on Gordon. Since you've thought this through with your usual attention to detail, tell him."  Jeff prompted

Gordon stared sheepishly at his feet and John felt the pit of his stomach sink. He shook his head, knowing what was coming.

"Sorry John," Gordon flicked a contrite glance at him, "Brain's tells me there isn't an antidote."

"_WHAT_!! How long?"

"Uh?"

"How long before this damned stuff wears off?" he emphasised every word through clenched teeth.

"Go on son; tell him."

"Er; about a…..week……"

"_A WEEK!"_

"……or so….."

"Want me to kill him?" Scott offered.

"Yeah, but wait until I've done it first."

Gordon was prepared and shot backwards as a pair of green streaked hands reached out. Yelling his apologies over his shoulder, Gordon bolted for the boat-house, prepared to barricade himself in, indefinitely, if need be…..until the steam had stopped coming out of his brothers' ears.


	3. The Joker and Virgil

The Joker and Virgil. 

Virgil stepped out onto the balcony, into the glorious sunshine. He watched as his father cut a swathe through the water with Scott, while other members of his family had gathered around the pool. Collecting his portable painting kit, easel and canvas, Virgil trotted lightly down the steps that joined the main part of the house and walked briskly across the terrace, raising his hand in greeting to his Grandmother. Fielding the invitations to join them in the inviting azure waters of the full sized pool, Virgil made his way to his favourite location for painting, one that afforded him the best view of the house, pool, and surrounding landscaped terrace.  Closing his eyes for a moment Virgil tilted his head, enjoying the feel of the sun's rays on his tanned face, as the gentle breeze washed in from the shore, teasing its way through his thick dark hair. Opening his warm brown eyes, he smiled in appreciation of the view before him. No matter how many times he viewed this scene, it never failed to fire him with a zest for painting. He had painted it three times already. Once for his father, as a birthday present, then for his Grandmother, who'd taken a shine to the original and lastly for his brother John, to keep him company on Thunderbird 5.  

This one he vowed was for himself, unless Tin-Tin commandeered it, as she'd threatened. His good natured features softened as he thought of her, he never could refuse her anything, none of them could. In the background he could hear the sounds of his family splashing about in the pool as, with expert fingers, he quickly set up his easel, secured the wing nuts and placed the 20x16 inch canvas on it. Tapping the canvas that had already been primed with a solution of thinner and raw sienna, Virgil gave a nod of satisfaction as the canvas responded tautly, and with knowledgeable familiarity he quickly selected the cobalt blue; french ultramarine, titanium white, lemon yellow and permanent light green for the sea and sky. For the landscape he chose the sap green, cadmium and yellow ochres, raw and burnt umbers, French ultramarine, alizarin crimson and the viridian green which had just the right shade for the foliage and palms. Although Virgil kept his equipment clean, he still gave his palate a gentle wipe, and selecting a number eight flat hog bristle brush, he filled the jar with odour free thinners.  

Reaching for the Cobalt blue he noticed a figure come out onto the balcony and raised his hand in greeting, before returning his attention back to the oil tube. Twisting the top, he paused when it refused to budge; applying more pressure until the top grudgingly gave way. When the tube refused to yield its contents, he shrugged and reached for a newer tube, knowing from experience how quickly the paints seized up in the tropical climate if left for any length of time. This time the cap unscrewed easily and he squeezed a sizable amount onto his palette. The french ultramarine and lemon yellow joined the cobalt blue, but when he twisted the cap of the large tube of titanium white, he encountered the same stubborn refusal to move. Other tubes proved just as elusive to his ministrations. Knowing, if he was in his studio, it would be a simple matter of putting the stubborn tubes into boiling water to loosen the tops. But out here he didn't have that luxury and had to settle for using more pressure to twist the caps. He knew it wouldn't take much for the tubes to split and leak paint, and tempered his pressure accordingly. Finally he felt the cap move, stiffly at first then with greater ease. He grunted in satisfaction. 

"Hi Virg', how's it going?"

His head jerked up to see a water logged Scott in shorts and an open topped short sleeved shirt standing before him. "Hi yourself Scott, what brings you over? How's the water?" he responded, squeezing at the tube with a frown.

"Curiosity and the water's fine, I'd ask you to join us, but I can see the competitions beaten me to it.  What are you painting anyway?"

Virgil grinned, "I'd tell you, if you promise not to tell Tin-Tin."

Scott returned the grin. "You're too late, she's already seen you, and if that's what I think it is, you're gonna have to hand it over when it's done……what's up?" Scott frowned as he watched Virgil drop the tube and start twisting at another.

"Damn things have seized up in the heat and when I do get the caps off, the paint won't budge. At this rate I'll….."

"Here let me give you a hand."

Smiling his thanks, Virgil handed his brother a couple of the tubes, noticing from his eye corner the figure still leaning casually on the lounge balcony.

"Thought Gordon would have been the first one in the pool."

"Yeah, me too, but he said he had pressing business."

"Him?"

Scott laughed, "Yeah I know what you mean…..okay that's got the top of one….. nothing keeps him out of the water unless it's his stomach. He's probably been raiding the fridge while Grandma's by the pool…… or something."

'_Or_  _something.' _"You don't think he's up to another of his schemes, do you?"

Scott tensed, a speculative look replaced the easy lop-sided smile, "He'd better not be, but if he is, at least we're forewarned, and we'll be ready for him…..damn but this thing's stuck tight."

"This one's the same, no, wait a minute……got it" Virgil's satisfaction was short lived when the paint stayed firmly in the tube, in spite of the considerable pressure he used. This time he took his palette knife and began prodding the tip. The paint, like the others, appeared to have well and truly set and he was just about to discard it when the tube appeared to cough. He blinked in surprise; looking up as he heard Scott's astonished oath while simultaneously registering the sudden wet sensations on his face, neck and hair. His brain was one step ahead of his investigating fingers as they came away dark red, his eyes on the other cap-less tubes that had started to move.

"Scott! Down!" he shouted, diving for cover as the tubes on his easel tray exploded in all directions. He wasn't quick enough, and from the expletives at the side of him, neither was his brother. Then the answer hit him even quicker than the paint had……Gordon. He looked up at the balcony at the figure leaning forward and could have sworn that even from that distance; he could see the grin on his brother's face before he ducked from view.

"What the heck……Gordon?" Scott deduced, picking himself up.

"Gordon!" Virgil confirmed, accepting the helping hand that pulled him to his feet. Scott had gotten off lightly, with only one or two streaks of paint finding their target, but looking down at  himself, Virgil stared grimly at the splotches of paint that were dripping down his shirt, and blinking through the red that was matching his mood. 

"He's already……" but Virgil wasn't waiting to hear any more, he was on his feet tearing past his brother, past the astonished faces of his family and bounding up the steps, tripping in his haste, to catch his brother before he had the time to do his usual disappearing act.

Virgil tore into the lounge, sucking in lungfuls of air as he flew past the astonished Kyrano and dived for the switch that would reveal the bio sensor monitor.  Virgil had been banking on the fact his speed would have been enough to catch Gordon before he managed to evade the sensors picking up his bio rhythms. Virgil hoped that Gordon's predilection for staying stay close enough to see the results of his pranks, would work in his favour. He looked up as Scott shot into the lounge breathing deeply, followed moments later by the rest of the family. Jeff's face was enigmatic as he handed his son the towel he'd thought to bring. 

"Thanks Dad," he said, wiping his face.

No-one said anything, they didn't have to. It was clear from Virgil's expression that this was no accident.

"You're looking for Gordon, right?" His father asked.

"How'd you know?"

"Because son," Jeff replied, "one look at you is enough to tell me this is Gordon's handiwork. So have you found him?" Jeff already knew the answer as he watched his son's fingers working feverishly over the plasma console.

Virgil nodded, his eyes never leaving the monitor, a mixture of satisfaction and exasperation on his face. "It appears the family reunion will have to wait, the sensors show my little brother has decided to postpone the moment, with a spot of scuba diving."

"What were you er; planning on doing with him when you caught up with him?" Jeff asked mildly.

"Oh I dunno Dad, something simple….like stringing him up between the opposite palms of Thunderbird Two's runway."

"Well as long as you don't intend to release the clamps holding the palms in place……"

Suddenly the good humour was restored to Virgil's face as he continued wiping at the paint residues. "I hadn't thought of that, now there's an idea…."

His face creased into a grin, and mingled with the laughter around him. 

Gordon Tracy should have known better, but he's decided to chance it…….Grandma's story is next, and she's not as easily placated as her grandsons.


	4. The joker versus Grandma

THE JOKER VERSUS GRANDMA.  

Grandma Tracy looked around the bedroom that was now part of her home. She'd been here two days now and had been champing at the bit to commence her duties. The only obstacle she'd had to overcome was that of her son, who'd been implacable in his insistence that she rest after her ordeal on the San Miguel Bridge. In her opinion she'd fared better than her youngest grandson Alan, at the hands of Gomez and Gillespie. Not that that had cut any ice with her son, no, he had still be resolute on the matter, and just this once she'd humoured him. But enough was enough, and now she was impatient to begin her domestic duties, the duties she was to share with Jeff's retainer, Kyrano, a man of impeccable standards, integrity and loyalty. A man well versed in the culinary arts, among his other talents. Examining her appearance in the full length mirror, she smoothed down her grey dress and checked her watch, 8.00am, time begin breakfast. 

******** 

Kyrano had shown her over the state of the art kitchen the previous evening, pointing out where everything was kept. And as she stood in the kitchen taking in the gleaming work surfaces, the high class appliances, cupboards for every conceivable paraphernalia, she smiled. She just _knew_ she was going to like living and working here. Rolling up her sleeves she walked over to the food cupboards……..

"Oh; hi Grandma."

Mrs. Tracy whirled round. "Gordon Tracy! Don't you know better than to go sneaking up on a body like that? What are you doing in here at this time anyway, is your stomach so impatient it can't wait half an hour?"

"Sorry Grandma; didn't mean to startle you." Gordon grinned boyishly and hugged the lady who had given him many a cuff round the ear, yet only came up to his chest.

"Get away with you." She smiled; her pleasure evident at her Grandson's display of affection. "If you want to make yourself useful, why don't you set the table for breakfast."

"Sure thing Grandma."

It was Mrs. Tracy's intention to make a start on breakfast, but the next sentence her Grandson uttered halted her. "What did you say? I don't believe it!"

"It's true Gran'; sorry." Gordon said, as Mrs. Tracy marched over to one of the cupboards.

"It can't be……." She said, pulling open a cupboard door, "it just _can't _be," she reiterated, pulling open another.

"Food beetles got into everything," Gordon explained, "We had no option but to incinerate the lot."

"_What, _ALL of it?"

"Yes Grandma, everything." 

"It can't be……oh my!" she whispered as she dashed around the huge kitchen, yanking open cupboard doors. The truth of Gordon's statement starting to sink in as the evidence of her eyes revealed one empty cupboard after another. She hastened over to the pantry, '_there'd be dry supplies in there, fresh ones too'. But no, the pantry was as bare as the cupboards, with the exception of half a dozen tins of rice-pudding and prunes plus an equal number of processed peas.…the fridge. Rushing over, she yanked opened the fridge door, "Surely they didn't get in here too?" _

"Yes Gran', must have snuck in on some of the other supplies. The whole place was riddled with the little suckers. We had no choice…..."

"What am I going to do for breakfast?" she cut across him, rubbing her hands down the sides of her dress, in a real fluster.

Gordon watched the vying emotions cross her face, his own steeled against the grin that was barely contained. 

"There must be _some food in this place…..we had dinner last night……..the freezer!"_

"Kyrano will be doing his weekly shop on Friday, as for the freezer; weeell we have some supplies left………but not much."

Mrs Tracy saw how little and what there was of it. "There's nothing here that's suitable for breakfast," she murmured, eyeing the pitiful contents.

"Is this _all_ we have left?"

"The freezer supplies _are due to arrive at the end of the month, according to Kyrano."_

"As if that helps. What am I going to do _now?"_

Gordon shrugged, "You'll just have to make do, don't worry Grandma, you'll think of something, it's what I've always loved about you, your ability to conjure up something out of nothing. Well; that's the kitchen table laid, I'll leave you to it, just give us a shout when breakfast's ready."

For all of one minute Grandma Tracy stared at the empty space where her medal winning Grandson had been, at the table neatly laid with eight place settings (Kyrano preferred his on his own terrace), with the words "conjure something out of nothing" ringing in her ears. '_Breakfast; they'll all be in here in a minute……what am I going to do?' Agitated, she double checked the cupboards in the hope something had been overlooked. But a second scout merely emphasized the depressingly empty cupboards, fridge and freezer. She stood in the kitchen feeling impotent…..'_Voices!'_ _

"Good morning mother." Mrs Tracy barely registered the kiss on her cheek; her eyes were on the disappointed faces of her grandsons as they trooped in looking at their empty plates.

"Mother? Are you alright?" Jeff's warm blue eyes narrowed at his parent's distracted air, his gaze registering the empty plates, and no sign of breakfast even having commenced. "Sit down mother, I'll get you a cup of coffee._ 'I knew it was too soon after their ordeal…..if only she wasn't so stubborn all the time.' _"What the! Where on earth have you put the coffee mother?"

"Why Jeff, it had to be incinerated……along with all the rest of the stuff." She watched his jaw drop as he came over and stood in front of her, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Want to run that by me again?"

"Incinerated?" Virgil and Alan exchanged quizzical looks.

"What are you talking about Grandma?" questioned Scott.

Mrs. Tracy looked into the anxious faces of her son and grandsons, "The food beetles."

More looks were exchanged. "The what?"

"You know, didn't Kyrano tell you?"

Patiently, as if addressing a child, Jeff took his mother's hand, "Listen mother, why don't you go back to bed. I'll bring you a cup of tea. You need to rest. It's too soon after your ordeal. The sun was very hot on that bridge; it can do strange things without you knowing it."

"Jefferson Tracy, I may creak a bit…….. at my age I'm entitled to, but there is _nothing _wrong with my mind…… is there?"

"Of course not mother, you just need more time, that's all. Now go back to bed."

"You'll do breakfast?"

"Yes; I'll make breakfast…..ah; Kyrano. Your timing's perfect."

"Mr. Tracy. I can be of some assistance?"

"Would you mind making a start on breakfast, until I get back, I'm just going to assist my mother back to her room."

"You are not well Mrs. Tracy?"

"My son feels it's too soon after my ordeal on that bridge……the sun you know."

Kyrano nodded. "Most wise Mrs. Tracy. These things should not be rushed." 

"Anything we can do Dad-Grandma?" 

What Jeff or his mother would have answered was lost by the exclamation Kyrano uttered.  Every head turned in his direction.

"Mrs. Tracy; you have put the food supplies somewhere?"

"'Course I haven't Kyrano, it's those food beetles."

"Huh?"

The combination of mystified expressions had her snapping, "That's why there's no food." 

"No food?"

"If you keep that up I'll think I'm not the only one who's had too much sun. Of course there isn't, it got incinerated."

"You incinerated the food Mother?" Jeff ignored the sharp intakes of breath from his sons. His eyes flicked from his mother to his retainer, his face growing increasingly dumbstruck as Kyrano came up empty handed after scouring every cupboard, an action registered by the rest of the family. 

"Now _wait_ a minute," Scott's own alarm was registering, "isn't there _any food left?"_

"You can't have cremated it _all!" Alan gasped._

"Not _me_! Kyrano!" Mrs. Tracy retorted.

"I have not touched the provisions Mrs. Tracy."

"Mother?"

"Don't look at me. I haven't burned them. I may have had a touch to much sun, but I'm not addled."

"Grandma, what was that you said about food beetles?"  Virgil's calm voice cut in.

"That's why the food had to be destroyed in the first place; it was full of the varmints….. Gordon said so."  

And that was when it registered, not gently, not gradually, but with the speed of a Mach 4 jet. Mrs Tracy was only a micro second behind her son in reaching her own conclusion. Every head snapped round to the medal winner sat at the table, running his finger round the neckline of his tee-shirt, his eyes dancing merrily as his body jerked with silent laughter. 

"Why you……"

"Mother; I'll handle this. Gordon?"

Gordon stood up, sobering reluctantly. "Okay; okay. I admit it. I emptied the cupboards and pretended we had an outbreak of food beetles, good one don't you think? I had Grandma buying it hook line and sinker."

"Those supplies had better not be damaged."

"What's up Scott did your stomach nearly have a heart attack at the thought of going a whole morning without food?" Gordon was so busy relishing his joke he missed the gleam in his grandmother's eyes.

'_Tangle with me would you young man……well just you wait…..' _

******** 

That evening:

"Now don't you go giving me that look young man, you should be thanking your lucky stars I managed to salvage _anything out of those supplies you __dumped in the basement." _

Gordon could sense his family's accordance, without the evidence of the smirks directed at him.

"I don't see how all the food got ruined…." he grumbled.

"Well it did."

"…..including the frozen stuff."

"What did you expect!"

"What about the eggs?"

"They got crushed when the frozen food melted and fell on them. Now just be grateful a managed to make something out of the mess that was left."

"But rissoles Grandma? _Surely you could have made something else apart from spinach rissoles?"_

Mrs. Tracy watched as her Grandson pushed his food around.

"Get them eaten."

"I h_a_te spinach!"

"Wasn't it you who said you loved me for my ability to conjure something up out of nothing, well that's just what I've done."

"But _spinach_ Grandma?_"_

"You need your iron."

"Couldn't I just have the rissoles without the spinach, I don't mind going without my iron, it won't kill me."

'_No, but I might.' _"Gordon Tracy as you were so quick to point out to me, 'you'll have to make do.' I can't be wasting food, just because your palate happens to be finicky." This brought forth a gusto of sniggering and Gordon glared around the table. "Now get it eaten, there'll be nothing else 'til you do."

"What _is_ for dessert Gran'?" 

"Not that you deserve any, but tinned rice pudding and prunes." She stifled a grin as Gordon's face dropped even further.

"But Grandma I hate rice pudding _and prunes even more than I hate spinach." he groaned, as the second course was brought to the table._

"Well you should have thought of that when you tampered with those food supplies……oh and Gordon?"

Gordon looked up.

"Make the best of it, because _that's the menu until Friday."_

His horrified expression amused her.

Watching his son's eyes lock onto Kyrano Jeff forestalled him, "Don't even think of asking Kyrano to shop early. Gordon knew from the warning look on his father's face it would be futile to argue, but that didn't stop him. "I could go if you like." He said, twiddling with the salt shaker. 

"As a way of making amends because your prank backfired and ruined our food supplies?"

Gordon nodded.

"No!"

"Anymore rice pudding anyone? Gordon; you've hardly touched yours." Grandma Tracy scolded.__

Gordon grimaced; pushing aside his bowl, his expression brightening as he suddenly remembered the half pack of biscuits under his bed. Making an excuse he left the table.

"Whew, I thought he was never going to leave," Scott said for all of them

 "Kyrano, keep your eyes peeled." Kyrano bowed and smiled as the matriarch of the family headed for the kitchen, returning seconds later with a covered salver.

"Here mother, allow me." Jeff said, taking the tray and lifting the lid to reveal the mouth-watering pre-cooked dinner. "Take it easy boys, there's plenty to go round." Jeff said in response to the awaiting plates, thrust eagerly forward.

"And plenty of seconds." added Mrs. Tracy.

"That was an ingenious touch of yours mother to suggest the supplies really _had_ been ruined, and by ants of all things."

"You certainly fooled Gordon." Alan chimed in. "Don't stint on the roast beef Dad, and I'll have a generous helping of those potatoes too Grandma."

Across the table mother and son exchanged glances, grinning. 

********  

The inspiration for this story came about because many years ago my darling husband hid _all the food in our house (every last scrap) and told me he'd taken pity on a homeless tramp and given him all the weekly shop I'd just bought in. I didn't believe him, but a quick scout through the cupboards had me in a real panic. I didn't mind sharing some of it, but __all of it? We had no money left to buy any more and I was panic stricken. My husband stood there grinning like a Cheshire cat when he finally took pity on me and confessed……and yes, I let him live!_

Tin-Tin's story is next, and she's left with some weighty issues after her clash with Gordon.


	5. The Joker versus TinTin

THE JOKER VERSUS TIN-TIN. 

Having tweaked the last of the mechanisms and recalibrated the figures, Gordon double checked the new settings were correct, and, with a satisfied grin, snapped the back on, tightened the screws and returned the scales to their usual place in the bathroom.

'_Let's hope it works this time,' he_ mused. 

Running his finger around the neck of his tee-shirt, he double checked the coast was clear before slipping out of the bedroom. Praying he wouldn't encounter Kyrano he headed for the lounge. The aquanaut had planned everything down to the last detail, so he knew he wouldn't have long to wait before the results of his latest handiwork came to fruition. Noting his absence, Gordon grabbed a handful of biscuits from his father's plate, and bounded for one of the loungers on the balcony, easing his latest issue of 'The Daredevil's Guide to Practical Pranks,' from under his tee-shirt, on the way. To anyone entering the room he exuded an air of supreme indifference, with his nose buried deep in the magazine, munching avidly on his father's biscuits.  He was in fact primed, waiting for his latest scheme to unfold.

********

Tin-Tin entered the lounge just ahead of her employer, a forlorn look on her pretty Eurasian features. Misreading her mood, Jeff's paternal instincts took over as he endeavoured to administer some comfort. 

"Try not to be so glum Tin-Tin. The month'll soon pass and Alan'll be home before you know it." He looked up as John entered the lounge, deep in conversation with Scott. Both stopped, noting the look of despondency on the young girl's face.

"What is it honey?" John asked as Scott dropped into the seat beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders. 

"I think it has something to do with our youngest brother." Scott supplied.

"What you need is a slice of my special chocolate cake dear, that's sure to buck you up." Grandma Tracy soothed, heading back for the door she'd just entered. The sounds of wailing brought her to a rapid halt, "Why Tin-Tin….oh dear…. come on you boys; move aside." She shooed Scott to one side and put her arm around the young girl, as John handed Tin-Tin a tissue. 

"Th-thankyou John."

"What's wrong dear?"

"I-I can't tell you."

"Of course you can dear. Now what is it? Is it Alan?"

Tin-Tin shook her head, dabbing her eyes with the tissue John had handed her.

"Has someone upset you?" Mrs. Tracy felt this was highly unlikely, but needed to be sure.

At the shake of the young girl's head she searched for other possible reasons.

"It's because those new suspenders you ordered got mixed up in the post and they sent that hernia truss instead, isn't it?"

"Grandma!" Tin-Tin gasped, grabbing a handful of tissues and burying her red face under them.

Mrs. Tracy cleared her throat, a warning look on her face waiting for the stifled laughter to stop.

"Well if it's not that then is it……" She tried several more possibilities while the males of the household looked on with lost expressions. Unable to coax out of Tin-Tin the reasons for her mood, Grandma Tracy attested to her original idea that what

Tin-Tin needed was a piece of calorie laden chocolate cake, which was a perfect mood enhancer. This brought results, along with a resumption of  tears.

"I don't want any cake. I'm never eating any again…._ever_, and I'm going on a diet." Tin-Tin said emphatically, twisting the tissues and dabbing at her eyes.

This had the reaction making every jaw drop, including Mrs. Tracy's. 

"Good heaven's Tin-Tin, what on earth's gotten into you?"

"I've put on over _eight pounds!"_

"_Where_?" was the mental question on every male's lips? An analytical scan of her figure had them baffled.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Do I look as if I am Scott?"

"Tin-Tin Kyrano, you've no more put on eight pounds than I've mastered a three point turn in Thunderbird two!"

 '_Over my dead body,'   Jeff breathed._

"But I _have_ Mrs. Tracy. This is my day for weighing myself.  I stood on the scales this morning and they don't lie. I've put on over eight pounds. Two last week and six this week. At this rate I'll….."

Scott glanced at his father silently indicating his perplexity. What was the big deal, eight pounds was nothing. Jeff responded wordlessly, conveying the situation called for diplomacy, delicacy and understanding were the female form was concerned. John rubbed the back of his neck, from where he was looking there didn't appear to be a problem; he flicked a glance over to his auburn haired brother who looked to be sublimely oblivious to the whole proceedings, as he crammed something into his mouth, chomping with relish behind his magazine. John lost some colour when he glimpsed the title, making a mental note to visit the incinerator the minute the present situation had been dealt with. Forcing his attention back to Tin-Tin, he suggested, "Maybe your scales are off." 

Jeff arched a brow, reaching round for a biscuit and frowning when there weren't any. 

 "Why don't I check 'em out?" Scott offered, glad of something to do.

"I don't see how they can be." Tin-Tin wailed, accepting a fresh tissue, "besides, my stars said I'd be dealing with weighty issues this week, and you _know_ how accurate they are."

_'Stars? Accurate? John blinked, "Oh honey….."_

"It's true, they _have been so accurate lately; everything they've predicted has come true."_

"Now hold on Tin-Tin, stars are just a bit of fun. How can they be accurate, for the entire population?" Jeff said, still frowning at his empty plate.

"Well these have been Mr. Tracy, just as if they've been written for me." Tin-Tin responded adamantly. "Last week they predicted those with two T's in their name, expensive tastes and surrounded by water would have to watch their weight, as a gain of two pounds were on the cards. This week they said those born on the 20th whose last name began with a K and a liking for," she flushed slightly, "fast pilots, would be judged by the scales to the tune of six pounds. Don't you see, it's all come true!"

"Oh, stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Tracy.

"No it _isn't_,  I _have_ put on eight pounds."

"Do you have any of those old horoscopes left?" John asked, " I wouldn't mind taking a look."

Grateful John was taking her seriously; Tin-Tin went and collected them.

"What do you have in mind son?"

"I'm not sure yet, maybe checking on the web to see whether the originals match up to Tin-Tin's versions, would be a start." He cast another glance over to the balcony to see that Gordon had now adopted a horizontal position and, hands behind his head, appeared to be snoozing beneath his magazine.

Tin-Tin returned with the two issues of 'Couture for the Modern Woman.', just as Scott breezed in with a set of scales.

"I don't know why you're doing this," Tin-Tin said eyeing the scales gloomily, as she handed John the magazines, "it won't undo the weight I've gained, I'll _still_ have to diet…..and the thought of never having anymore chocolate……"

"There; there now Tin-Tin, take it easy." Jeff patted her arm consolingly. 

"Scott, they're not my scales!"

"I know that honey, I've got Brains checking yours over."

 "Then why have you brought these?"

"Just a little experiment Tin-Tin, stand on them will ya?"

"Oh Scott, do I _have to? Wasn't once enough?" _

"Humour me, hmm?"

"Going somewhere Gordon?"

"Er, just thought I'd nip over and get some simulator practice in on TB2."

Jeff nodded his approval, just as Virgil sauntered in, catching the tail end of Gordon's statement. "As long as it's only the simulator you practice on…..and what's up with Tin-Tin?"

"Oh she bust her bathroom scales seems like she's put on a couple of stone or something." Gordon ducked as the cushion Tin-Tin aimed with stunning accuracy hit him just above his jaw line. "Umph."

"Gordon Tracy, I'm never swimming with you again."

"That's a heck of a lot of stuff you're giving up this week honey. Hey Virg', have you heard? Tin-Tin's giving up chocolate cake?"

"Much good that does me," Virgil responded, "Tin-Tin's not the one with the voracious appetite…..now if you'd said Scott was giving it up……."

"Hey; in your dreams sonny."

"What're you doin' with those bro', bustin' 'em?"

"Hey, have a little respect round here, they're not for me. Tin-Tin? When you're ready." 

Reluctantly she approached the scales, tentatively stepping onto the cool dark metal with her eyes tight shut. She swallowed hard into the silence, waiting for the verdict.

"What do you normally weigh honey?......come on now don't be shy."

Tin-Tin whispered a figure.

"Well now, that's interesting." 

Tin-Tin's eyes snapped open as Scott read out the verdict. Her trepidation transforming into a smile as she saw the results  for herself. She whooped with delight, quickly retesting the scales, and beamed as the same result winked back at her. Her infectious delight  brought responding smiles all round.

"So you see Tin-Tin, you never did gain eight pounds; you've been the same weight the whole  time."

"But how come……"

"Well now, whad'ya know." The sound of John's voice brought them back to the matter of the magazines. He turned to them from the computer console. "I've just double-checked with the web editorials of your magazine Tin-Tin, and their horoscope section for Gemini's varies considerably to yours." 

"So?" Virgil asked.

"So, simply put, Tin-Tin's Stars have been tampered with, altered, changed…." John proclaimed.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, but who, how?" 

Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!

"Go ahead Brains."

"Ah, erm, Mr. Tracy, I-I conducted th-those tests S-Scott requested and I er thought you'd er, like to know th-the results."

"Go on Brains."

"T-The analysis sh-shows the scales were out o-of alignment to the tune o-of eight point three pounds.  I-I've, er, recalibrated them, so you shouldn't h-have any more p-problems now."

"Thanks Brains, I'm sure Tin-Tin'll be mighty relieved to hear that."

"Now we just want Gordon."

"We do? What for?" Grandma asked.

"Oh I figure he might be able to supply the answers." John smiled, waiting.

Several light bulbs went on simultaneously.

********

"Gordon, I'd like to see you in the lounge in two minutes."

"I'm a little tied up right now can't it wait Dad?"

"Naturally. I fully concur with you continuing your simulator practice……I'll send Tin-Tin and the boys over, and let Alan know the situation……then of course there's Kyrano….."

Jeff examined the tips of his fingers as he listened to the static………."Alright; alright. I'm on my way." 

Jeff remained straight faced as he noted the edge of panic in his sons' voice. He would have loved to give free rein to his emotions, but he had his image to uphold, his sons expected it of him. So it was with a resolute air of authority that he watched the figure of his fourth born sidle cautiously into the room, a defensive posture about him as he saw the welcoming committee.

Jeff put out a hand to hold Tin-Tin back. "Its okay honey, we'll deal with this."

"I have to hand it to you Gordon, that devious mind of yours can certainly dream 'em up." John held out the magazines, "how'd you change the horoscopes?"

"I want to know why?" Tin-Tin felt she had to ask.

"The scales; that was an inspired touch." Scott grinned, then coughed, resuming a stern look as he saw the way Tin-Tin glared at him.

Gordon grinned too before hurriedly resuming his contrite posture.

"So how did you doctor these horoscopes?"

Gordon turned back to John and shrugged, his ego getting the better of him. "It was easy, just a simple case of using that new programme to laser out the old horoscope then photocopy the er, new versions onto the original page, then hey presto."

"And the scales?"

Gordon shrugged modestly at Scott. "That was a breeze." He faltered as saw Tin-Tin roll up her sleeves and pick up a cushion. He didn't like the way she closed in on him or that gleam in her eye.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry Tin-Tin; it was just a bit of fun…..I didn't mean you any harm……..what are you gonna do with that oomph cushion Tiiiiiin-uuuuumgh-Tin, I'm (Whoooooosh) soooorrrry aaahhh. I'll (thwack) never (biff) do that (bash) huuuuuuuhhhhpghhhhh, again. Aaaaarrrrgh, huuuumph, urgh, honey!"

"I know you won't," she said swinging with all her strength, and smiling as it connected, "and don't you honey me, you, you…….."

 "Hey, mind my face!"

"It won't do any damage to _that!" and to prove it she aimed another direct hit._

"Hey you guys, aaaargh don't just stand there….. _help_!........No! Not like that!" Gordon gasped as several cushions were picked up, only breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of force used when they were laughingly directed at him. "Argh! Tin-Tin, noooooooo!" he yelled trying to scramble under the coffee table. "Dad! Are you just going to stand there and let her beat the hell out of me?"

"You think I'm unwise enough to intervene when she's in _that_ mood?"

"Grandma?" he gasped trying to deflect the blows.

"He's all yours dear." Mrs. Tracy chuckled, "I'll leave you to it." she said heading for the door.

 "Traitors, huuuuumph, okay that's enough, or I'm going to have to tell Alan you've been taking sneaky  looks at Rick O'Shay's programme again……..Ooooouch!"

"Threaten me would you Gordon Tracy, well I'll just tell him you've been using his trophy for target practice!"

"You'd lie?"

"Try me!"

"You're too hard girl."

"Just thank your lucky stars I don't know how to do a Vulcan neck pinch," she breathed swinging the cushion again, "oooooops. NOW look what you've done!" she giggled as a white mass exploded upwards.

"What _I've_ done," he declared, using the opportunity to duck behind the sofa, "you were the one swinging that thing round with the determination of an Amazon…..hey I'm…I didn't mean that." he held up his hands placatingly as she approached with another cushion.

"I always wondered what that new stuff was they filled these things with……it's all yours Gordon." 

"It's what? Hey wait a minute! You can't think of leaving me with _this_ mess to clean up." He said watching as the fibres danced and flitted, filling the room like a mass of elusive soap suds.

You catch on fast."

"Oh, no! This'll take for _ever."_

"GOOD!"

"Hey where are you going?........ to inform your Dad?"

Tin-Tin watched as he fell into step beside her, his boyish face oozing charm to mask his anxiety.

"I'm thinking about it……however I'm sure Alan would love to be filled in first." It was her turn to work on remaining straight faced as she headed for the kitchen and that piece of therapy in the shape of chocolate cake, with Gordon's pleading and cajoling ringing in her ears.

********

"Erm, what are you gonna do about this Dad?" Scott said, brushing blithely at the fluffy mass that had now settled on them and was spreading with blissful ease over which ever surface it could find.

"Why, I'm going to get Kyrano to show Gordon where the vacuum cleaner is kept." Jeff responded with irony.   

*********

Alan's story is next: Gordon knows his brother well, knows which buttons to press and has pressed them gleefully, so how come Gordon has won immunity from Alan's backlash?


	6. The Joker versus Alan

THE JOKER VERSUS ALAN. 

February 14th.

It had been an eager Gordon who'd ripped the paper from his presents, before breakfast had even begun; scattering paper in all directions, His enthusiasm had rubbed off on all those around him, including a sleepy John, watching from the monitor of TB5. The birthday wishes came thick and fast as he'd thanked first one, then another for the gifts his dextrous fingers had revealed, his joy apparent at the diversity of their choices. Peeling back the paper to reveal a shirt that gave 'loud' a bad name, Gordon held it up, beaming "Nice one Gran', don't you think so Alan?" 

"You gonna wear it?" Alan whispered.

"Sure."

"Then I may consider suing you for blinding me."

"'Scuse me while I get my shades." Scott voiced deprecatingly. This brought laughter and a backhander from Mrs. Tracy.

Breakfast came a poor second as he ignored his father's advice and dived into the box of Belgium chocolates Grandma Tracy had also bought him, offering the box all round. Finally with breakfast out of the way, they awaited the arrival of the mail plane. Alan did a double take as Kyrano entered the lounge carrying a bulging sack. 

"Boy, are _you_ Mr. Popular this morning." he said to Gordon, watching as Scott took charge of the Hessian filled sack.

"This one's for you." Scott said delving into the sack and studying the large white envelope."

"For me?" Alan smiled, pleased.

"Well, it is Valentine's Day."

"Yeah I know." 

"This one is too."

"Another one?"

"_Now_ who's Mr. Popular?" Gordon fired back.

"Any for me Scott?"

Scott flicked a glance at the expectant Virgil. "Could be, just let me delve through some of this…….nope, this one's for me, oh and here's one…..no two for you Gordon, hang on….there's a couple more."

"Thanks Scott."

"Any for me Scott?" Tin-Tin's melodic tones asked hopefully.

"Sure honey…..just let me get at 'em……there you go. Oh and Tin-Tin?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't you go letting that brother of mine go getting all jealous on you….."

"As if."

"I won't." She laughed, ignoring the way Alan was trying to peer over her shoulder as she eagerly tore the cards from their envelopes.

Scott watched for a moment as she beamed at the contents, oblivious to the scowls she was receiving from Alan. Then resuming his self appointed task, he began rifling through the well filled sack. All watched expectantly as he conscientiously worked his way through the contents, handing another three parcels into the eager hands of Gordon. Scott smiled at the ripping paper flying in all directions mingled with the satisfied grunts as Gordon uncovered the sweater, liquors and a book Lady Penelope had sent him. The title, 'The A to Z of Practical Jokes.' brought a huge grin to his face, while all around him other faces drained of colour and took on horrified looks.  Oblivious to the fact his enthusiasm wasn't shared, he flicked through the pages, a devilish gleam in his eyes, '_I must put this to good use,' _while over his head others exchanged mental notesto make sure the book found its way into the incinerator before its contents had been put to any bad use. Putting aside his reservations and returning his attention back to the contents of the sack, Scott said, "Well what d'ya know, another two for me…."

"….any for me yet Scott?" The hopeful note in Virgil's voice stirred him to redouble his efforts.

"Not so far…..just give me a –couple-more-minutes….nearly at the bottom now….."

"Is there any mail for me son?"

Scott's head jerked up. "You expecting a valentine Dad?"  

Jeff Tracy favoured his son with a wry look, "I may not be attractive to _you _son, but I'm not over the hill yet you know, and for your information, I meant _proper mail." _

Rising to the thinly veiled smirks, he added, "you lot aren't the only ones who can receive valentines….I've had my moments." and ignoring the raised eye brows, he headed for his favourite piece of furniture. "Just bring any over when you've finished Scott."

"Sure Dad."

"Any for me yet Scott?"

Scott shook his head at Virgil, before plunging back into the sack, "Hey, another one for me…..that makes four."

"He can count…."

"There's nothing wrong with his hearing either." Scott fixed Alan with a level look.

Alan shuffled lower in his seat, "Anymore for me yet?"

"Nope, but there's…..wait for it……_six more for Tin-Tin." Scott ignored the arrested look on Alan as he handed the envelopes into the waiting clutches of the pretty Eurasian girl. Her enthusiasm receiving a nod of approval from Grandma.  All watched with indulgent interest, with the exception of Alan, who scowled blackly as she pulled the cards free, delighting in guessing the senders identities. Scott watched, grinning for a moment before resuming his task._

"There you go Grandma." He said, handing over the monthly magazine she subscribed to.

"Thankyou dear."

"Any for me yet?" 

"Virg', the minute I find one with your name on it, you'll be the first to know……here's one." Virgil sprang forward.

" …..Gordon……it's yours." Virgil sank back. 

"Virg'?"

"Yeah?" Virgil, hand outstretched, shot out of his chair so fast he almost skidded straight over the top of the coffee table.

"Give those letters to Dad will ya……sorry kid." 

"He can have one of mine……_if I ever get anymore." _

Scott ignored the sarcasm coming from his youngest brother. It was clear his mood stemmed from the ten cards Tin-Tin was currently poring over, his eyes had never left her.

"Gordon, here's another one for you, and one for me and one…. no two for John……and Virg'?"

"Yeah don't tell me….it's another one for Dad."

"Er no, this one's got your name o……" Virgil had the envelope out of Scott's hand before he could blink.

"Oh I don't believe this!"

"What's up kid, did she spell your name wrong?"

"It's a credit card bill." Gordon obliged, laughingly deflecting the scowl from his artistic brother.

"Right that's just about it." All eyes locked on the small piles of cards in Scott's hand.

"Virg'?"

"More bills?" 

Scott didn't say anything as he handed the small batch of various size envelopes over, the smile on his brother's face, reward enough.

"They for me?" Gordon smiled as Scott handed the last of his cards over. Placing John's to one side, Scott made his way over to his father's desk and held out the three coloured envelopes, a curious questioning look burning in his eyes.

"Thankyou son." The finality in those words confirmed his own suspicions that he'd get nothing further out of his father. Scott watched as the envelopes were slipped out of sight in a lower desk drawer.

"The sack, it still looks pretty full to me Scott."

"Er; yeah, honey it is." He turned back into the room.

"Mr. Popularity _is in demand this year."_

"Actually; Alan, they're not Gordon's, they're yours." and as Scott tipped the contents, every head turned to look as the table overflowed with cards, spilling onto the floor in all directions.

"What; _all_ of them?"

"Yeah; all of them."

"_Now_ who's Mr. Popularity?" Gordon bounced back.

Alan stared dumbfounded for several minutes at the sizable pile until the dig in his ribs prompted him to begin the sizable task of ploughing through them. The room took on an intrigued hush as he pulled card after card from their envelopes. 

"Hey listen to this one." Gordon snatched the card holding it aloft as his brother reached frantically to retrieve it.

"Give that back!"

"Whoa, no wonder you didn't want us to see _this one."_

"Give that back_ now!" _

Ignoring the warning growl and successfully deflecting the frantically snatching hands, he read out

'_For the hottest lips in the business,_

_You can leave your tread marks on mine anytime,_

_In breathless anticipation, _

_Your fantasy girl, Mona. _

"I've never heard of anyone called Mona…… honestly, Tin-Tin." Alan cast her an appealing look, "or any of the others…." But it was clear from the way her arms were folded, combined with the icy stare emanating from her, that not only had the reversal of fortunes not gone down well, but she didn't believe him either. This was confirmed as she spun on her heel and stomped from the room, deaf to his pleas. 

"Did you see that, _did you, she walked out on me."_

"Yeah, we saw."

"What am I going to do?"

"Do you really not know who sent you these?" Scott quizzed, randomly picking a card.

"Not that one!"  Alan scrambled forward.

"What's up kid?" Virgil asked, noting the way Scott's brows raised in amusement as he opened the caricatured card. His own lips twitched as he saw the dedication.

_'To the lurve machine,_

_My engine purrs at the thought of you,_

_can't wait 'til we tune up again._

_Yours, always Carlotta.'_

"The lurve machine eh?" Virgil mimicked teasingly as his warm brown eyes danced mischievously at the colour running up Alan's cheeks.

"I don't know anyone by that name." he mumbled defensively, amid the quiet chuckles.

"…….hey wait a minute," Scott studied the signature with puzzlement, turning his attention from the cards to the now seated figure, having quiet convulsions behind his birthday present.'

"Gordon?"

Slowly he lowered the book, "Yeah?"

"This has your signature all over it."

For moment Gordon's expression worked overtime, "Don't see how it can have," he finally said, grabbing at a card, "no it hasn't."

"I didn't mean literally, but you know something don't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

Making an educated guess Scott said, "If you're going to forge the signatures, the least you could do is disguise your handwriting better."

Gordon shrugged and grinned sheepishly, "Okay you rumbled me…."

"Why you…."

"Easy there champ." Scott quickly grabbed Alan's arm, "every dog has his day."

"Who're you calling a dog?"

"It's a metaphor kid, your turn will come."

Alan wheeled round on Gordon, "How could you do this to me, and on your birthday of all days?"

"Sorry kid, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up, besides it's not my fault Valentine's Day happens to fall on my birthday. As for Tin-Tin, relax, I'll square it with her, so you're off the hook."

"You'd better, and no funny business either, I'll be watching you…."

"Correction, we'll all be watching you." 

Virgil nodded in agreement, "Damn pity we gave him his birthday presents before the mail arrived."

"His birthday's not over yet," Alan growled, "If I had my way you'd be put in the Thunderiser and your butt spat out into the bay."

Several lips twitched, including Gordon's as he responded, "Yeah but you're forgetting one thing…….I have immunity on my birthday, it's an unwritten rule."

All nodded sagely. "True," Scott replied, "but tomorrow's another day, and the clock's ticking."

********

The last victim is Brains, who is left well and truly rattled by Gordon's prank.

.


	7. The Joker versus Brains

THE JOKER VERSUS BRAINS.

"Ah; there you are Brains, I was just about to give you a call."

"Uh; no n-need Mr. Tracy, I-I'm ready." Brains responded by taking the seat opposite his opponent, his concentration already fixed on the board.

Everything had been prepared the evening before and both men settled down to enjoy their regular game of chess.

"Any preference for colour?"

"Ah; no M-Mr. Tracy."

"I'll take white then." Jeff said, moving his pawn forward. His opponent spent some minutes studying the board. Jefferson Tracy waited patiently; experience prepared him for his chess partners' habit, and after some minutes of quiet contemplation the young man moved forward, just as a chair was dragged noisily into their line of vision. Both men turned to stare as the young man flopped heavily into it returning their stare with a jaunty smile. He was ignored for his trouble, the game uppermost in both players' minds. After several minutes of studied silence Jeff reached out to pick up another pawn.

"Want a whiskey Dad?" Gordon boomed.

Jeff jumped and declined, reaching out again. 

"How about you Brains?" Jeff tensed and sighed. 

"Er; n-no th-thanks Gordon."

"Any one mind if I get a drink?" without waiting for a reply Gordon bounced up and left the room. 

Jeff relaxed and returned his attention back to his intended move, a slight apologetic smile on his face at his son's interruption. On his wave length Brains smiled back before fixing his eyes back to the board. Jeff leaned forward and stiffened as his son breezed jauntily into the room and once more dropped into the chair, a can of pop in one hand and a _large_ bag of crisps (potato chips) in the other.

Taking a deep breath Jeff leaned forward, as the bag was scrunched and yanked apart, blocking out the sounds of crunching, he moved his pawn and  sat back stiffly, waiting, his eyes fixed on the young man opposite, his ears tuned to the one, rustling at his side. 

The young scientist had a system, one that worked well to his advantage, one that wasn't working tonight as he became acutely conscious of the young aquanaut at the side of him, and the distraction he was causing. '_How can one person make all that noise?' _ He concentrated on tuning Gordon out and for a time it worked as he studied the board with determination. Hiram J. Hackenbacker worked several moves ahead, including anticipating where his opponent would go. For this he needed total concentration..and quiet. It was not quiet tonight. He reached out and promptly stopped as the ring pull was snapped and the can thrust under his nose. 

"Want a drink?"

"Er; n-no th-thanks." he almost smiled as the can was then thrust under his opponents' nose and a terse refusal was issued.

'_How can one man make so much noise drinking_ _from a can?_' he pondered_, 'and what is he doing with that bag?_' Hiram J. Hackenbacker sighed, his brow furrowed as he continued to stare at the board.

"Gordon; do you _have_ to make so much noise?"

Jeff's obvious annoyance transferred itself to the young scientist and he made a move that had him mentally kicking himself. He grimaced, hoping his face hadn't given himself away, or more importantly, his partner hadn't noticed. It appeared not as the head of International Rescue made a move that had the young scientist almost gaping. This was a chance to redress his earlier gaff. But first he needed to contemplate...if only the interested party would go somewhere else. He looked up at Jeff's son, trying to communicate some of his anxiety, and was greeted with a grin for his trouble. The more he tried to tune out the noises Gordon Tracy was making the more his presence impinged. "Ah; w-would you mind Gordon?"

"You want one?" Gordon shoved the bag of crisps under Brains' nose.

"Ah, not e-exactly."

"A drink then?"

"Erm, no."

"Gordon; can't you see we're trying to have a game here."

"So; what's stopping you?"

The level look directed at him by both men bounced right off him as Gordon belched, grinned and shoved his hand deep into the bag, rattling the last of the crisps out.

"For Pete's sake!"

"Sorry Dad, Brains. Can't help it."

Brains waited, watching out of his eye corner as the disrupter sat back then, studying the board, leaned forward. The rattle of the bag as it was scrunched up un-nerved him and when he looked at the board it was to find he'd moved his knight, which was the last thing he'd intended. He glowered at the son just as the father grinned broadly, making a very promising move.

"Check."

"Uh; y-yes I know that Mr. Tracy." Brains snapped, pushing his glasses firmly up his nose. This game was slipping away from him; he'd never live it down if he lost _this_ one. Vaguely he was aware of Scott and Virgil moving discreetly to the parameter of the table, this further distracted him, but not as much as the constant sounds Gordon managed to make, even when he was still. His presence was un-nerving. After some minutes he reached out to pick up his queen but the sharp intake of breath froze him. Casting a questioning frown at Gordon, Brains saw him shake his head and tut.

"Gordon! That'll do."

Puzzled, Brains turned back to the board, redoubling his efforts at concentration, but the cracks had appeared as he pondered on the young man's behaviour. '_What did he mean by that? It was a good move...wasn't it?'_ Distracted Brains moved his other knight instead, a move that brought mixed reactions from the spectators. He rubbed the back of his neck feeling the tension rising. Hearing the word "check" again merely intensified his taut nerves, and with little thought he picked up his bishop...or he tried to, but as he pulled, the board lifted with it, and the pieces that weren't glued to it scattered in all directions, under the table and across the floor. He gaped at the board and the other attached pieces, his intelligent face registering his astonishment He looked into the face of his opponent and saw Jeff was as astounded as he was, while the sounds of laughter rent the air around them. There could only be one answer for this and both turned to the interested party, who sat there with a grin on his face that said it all.

********

It is a wise man who quits while he's ahead. Gordon's enthusiasm over-rode his common sense. His engaging personality, amber eyes and winning smile are not enough to save him this time and now the tables are turned as his family close ranks and dish out a little 'Payback' of their own.


	8. Payback', chapter one

CHAPTER ONE.

The Tracy's bond of love is strong, unbreakable. They won't think twice about closing ranks to protect one another. But when one of their number has been getting out of hand it has prompted them close ranks again, only this time it's to 'Payback' the offender. The Tracys' led by their father devise a plan and Gordon's engaging personality, amber eyes and winning smile won't save him this time. Hope you like it.

********

"Right you all know why you're here?" 

Jefferson Tracy listened to the murmured affirmatives with a nod. 

"Okay then, time's short so let's not waste a second of it…….."

At that moment everyone in the room jumped, holding their breath, as the door to Jeff's private study was bumped and jostled open. Collective sighs of relief were expelled as the matriarch of the family bustled in, bearing a tray.

Several hands reached forward, but the eldest grandson got there first and relieved her of it.

"Mother?"

"Well son, don't let me stop you," her twinkling blue eyes rested on him as she took up residence in the nearest seat.

This earned her a frown from her son. "I'm sorry mother but we're in the middle of a meeting here….."

"And I know exactly why you're here. Now if you think I'm going to meekly skid-addle out of here while you continue this discussion without me you'd just better think again."

"You _know_ why we're here?" he said, while thanking Scott and accepting the cup of coffee offered him. 

"'Course I do. There's not much goes on around here I don't know about."

This brought forth several expressions of alarm on the faces of her grandson's, who hoped she didn't mean literally.

"Well Jeff?"

He could see from the stubborn set of her jaw he'd have an easier time moving a bull elephant with a feather duster than getting his mother out of the room.

"Hmm; very well then mother; I can see I've little choice."

"You forget I've been on the receiving end of that young man too and if anyone deserves to balance a few books around here it's me."

Subconsciously several thought she already had, while they had yet to do so, but collectively, all knew it was pointless arguing with her.

"Very well then." he looked around him to ensure he had everyone's attention, "as you know things have been getting out of hand lately, and much as I love that son of mine, his little games have gone on long enough unchecked. Drastic action is called for, that's why you're all here. Now normally I'd be the last one to ask you to lock horns, and I'm aware at the first sign of trouble you'd all close ranks anyway. I know that there isn't anything you wouldn't do for each other," the glances he received confirmed his supposition. "But this is different; we wouldn't be having this meeting if you weren't in agreement. Things have reached breaking point. I hardly dare relax my guard for a minute, wondering what he's going to dream up next and it has to stop! Last night was the final straw." He received several concurring nods. "From my reckoning we have about…" he consulted the piece of genius on his wrist…. "Fifteen more minutes. Tin-Tin's keeping him occupied so let's get down to brass tacks. Precision timing will be needed, it's imperative there are no slip ups, so synchronise your watches and activate the new alarm systems Brains' has installed in them, now. Jeff waited until they had complied. 

"As you know those alarms are now linked to the workshop/lab sensors If Gordon approaches within two hundred yards of the workshops, their alarm systems will be activated and trigger the alarms in our watches, giving us all enough time to intercept him. It's important you keep your watches on, or near you at all times. Okay, on to the details of 'Operation Payback.'" The room took on a hushed air as Jeff proceeded to outline his plan. 

"You'll need to co-ordinate your roles, work in pairs and have your wits about you at all times to ensure this mission is a success. But be warned, it won't be easy. Your brother's a slippery customer, he's fast and he's intelligent. He's also cunning and devious. The fact that we're here today is testament to that, and you're going to have your work cut out to stay one step ahead of him. There'll be no going back once we begin operations, so I have to be certain you're in agreement on this. I'm going to ask one last time for your consent. 

Scott; are you in?" 

Scott nodded firmly. He knew he'd gotten of lightly compared with some of his siblings, but he still hadn't forgotten the way the king prankster had swapped all the numbers in his little black book. Several attractive young women were now giving him the cold shoulder as a result and they were only the ones who took it well. He still broke out in a sweat when he recalled the scenes on the Vid-phones between those who hadn't. And then, more recently, there was the prank to his hair. Unconsciously he ran his fingers through the thick dark steely mass. _Thankfully_, he'd managed to keep that one quiet, and escape the ribbing that would undoubtedly have followed.

John; are you in?"

John rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. Several pairs of eyes flicked discreetly in his direction, surreptitiously inspecting the blond man's face, while trying to appear blasé. He was still extremely sensitive about his appearance. His steel blue eyes rested briefly on Brains, recalling it was another of the engineering genius's experiments that had inadvertently given that brother of his the means to play yet another trick on him. 

Gordon had gone to the lab to see if Brain's would fix his personal LMD system when he noticed the test tube that was about to discarded. In answer to his question Brains naively informed him this particular new compound reacted adversely when in contact with certain chemicals, chlorine included. The results, though harmless, lasted for several days on the skin, leaving it green. Never slow to miss an opportunity, Gordon siphoned enough and slipped it in John's suntan lotion.

He should have realised his brother was up to something, from the keen interest Gordon was favouring him with.  Goaded, he took Gordon's bait and dived into the water after him. At first he misinterpreted the reactions for admiration, as he cut through the water, that was until he noticed the blotches and streaks of green appearing on his arms and torso, and the comments of "The Hulk would be proud of you," from a grinning Gordon and _knew_ he'd fallen victim again. He hadn't minded at first, had even laughed good naturedly, until he found that no amount of showering would erase the blotches and that he'd have to live with the results for days. 

"You can count me in Dad."

"Virgil?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world Dad."

The serious artistic son nodded and cast a sympathetic look at his blond brothers' face. Okay, so John had fared worse, but that didn't mean he'd escaped unscathed, oh no. Virgil cast his mind back to the most recent of the pranks Gordon had played on him. He'd been working outdoors on a new canvas, and some of the oil tube tops had proved surprisingly stubborn to his manipulations, and not having the means to soak them in boiling water to loosen the caps, as he would if he'd been indoors, he'd  had to use force instead, then the paint refused to budge from the tubes. As it turned out, it had nothing to do with the paint having dried in the tubes, but rather a copper haired joker who'd rigged the paints to explode the minute they made contact with the air, leaving some interesting patterning on his face, much to the hilarity of his family, including his Grandmother. He looked her way now as his father addressed her.

"Mother?"

She just smiled and nodded emphatically, knowing she would _never_ forget Gordon's audacity in daring to pick on her for one of his pranks.

She had only just come to the base from her Parola Sands home near San Miguel, where her youngest Grandson had won his trophy on the racing circuit. That in itself was quite a story but for now she was remembering her second youngest Grandson's caper. He had told her that food beetles had been discovered in all the supplies and that as a result all the food had been thrown out, and she'd _believed_ him. It had caused her quite a panic as she'd scoured through the cupboards and found every one empty. When he came clean and confessed he'd put all the food in the basement she didn't know whether to be relieved or smack him. In the end she did neither, but played the young monkey at his own game.  

"As you're all aware Tin-Tin has given her vote, and you all know the reasons why. Alan's doing his tour of duty so that lets him out, and since I'm chairing this meeting you know how my vote has gone." He paused for a moment to recall that day several weeks ago now when he'd been peacefully scrutinising the stock market figures at the breakfast table and how his son had disrupted that peace with his revelation that Alan's pet alligator Eglantine, was, (as he'd believed) in amongst his Koi. Oh he'd recovered all right, and mentioning fish was still a sore subject with the young medal winner, but it appeared it still hadn't broken him of his predilection to play pranks left right and centre. Jeff then looked over to the quiet young man with blue thick rimmed glasses.

"Brains?"

"Oh er sh-sure …th-thing Mr. Tracy."

By and large Brains was left in peace by the prankster, the jokes going mostly over his head, but Brains had one relaxing past-time. He liked, very much, to lose himself in a game of chess. He cast his mind back to the previous evening. The board had already been set up when he sat down with Jefferson Tracy in the lounge. He'd been very absorbed in the game, plotting several moves ahead, as he usually did, and had dismissed the interested party on his right as nothing more than an irritating distraction, that was until he'd gone to move his bishop. As he lifted the piece the whole board came with it and those pieces that hadn't been glued down rolled in all directions over the floor and under chairs. His opponent and employer was as dumbfounded as himself, until both had looked straight into the mirth filled amber eyes watching them and knew Gordon Tracy done it again.

"Right that's settled then. So now to put the plan in action."

******** 

Chapter two up in a couple of days.


	9. Chapter two

CHAPTER TWO.

"Right that's settled then. So now to put the plan in action. Brains; you have the blue prints drawn up?"

"Erm; er y-yes sir. The-they're in my o-office."

"You haven't made it too easy for him?"

"Oh….er no sir. Th-they're in my s-safe." Brains replied, taking a sip of his coffee. 

"Excellent. Okay Scott; John you know what you have to do?"

Both chorused affirmatives.

 "If all goes to plan he should take the bait. It's just a matter of timing.  I make it," he flicked a glance at his watch, "16:33 hours," before addressing his artistic son, "Virgil; it's your job to inform your brothers the minute Gordon leaves the pool."

"Sure thing Dad."

"The rest of you take up your positions and keep in contact; the first part of 'Operation Payback' begins now."

"And what do you want me to do dear?"

Jeff had quite overlooked his mother who was now favouring him with an expectant stare.

This was the last thing he'd anticipated.

"Er; why…. mother; you could try and persuade us to sample one of those delicious coconut pies I saw you make earlier."

"Is that it?"

"Weeell; another cup of that marvellous coffee wouldn't go amiss."

This earned him some good natured grumbling at being deliberately misunderstood, though from Mrs. Tracy's expression it was clear to see she wasn't altogether put out.

* * *

The distinguished head of International Rescue adopted a pose of relaxed indifference as he leaned against the balcony of his lounge watching his auburn haired son cut a swathe through the full sized pool. He observed the signal from Tin-Tin with a nod of his head and spoke into his watch.

"Virgil; he's on his way."

"Okay Dad, I'll let the others know…..John? Scott? Have you taken up your positions? He's on his way."

"Sure thing."

"How long have we got?"

"About………." From his vantage point near the porch Virgil craned his neck just in time to see a water-logged Gordon flick his hair back and sling a towel around his neck as he made for the house….. "a minute."

"Thanks Virg'."

The two remaining Tracys took up their positions, out of sight, in the corridor next to Thunderbird one's workshop, knowing their brother would have to pass close by them on his way to his bedroom. John's ears were primed for the sounds of footsteps on the tiled floor.

"Now we've got to make this sound believable; you ready bro'?" he whispered, his eyes locked on the second counter of his watch.

* * *

Chapter three: follows shortly. 'Operation Payback' is going to plan and Gordon has taken the bait.


	10. Chapter three

CHAPTER THREE.

"Now we've got to make this sound believable; you ready bro'?" he whispered, his eyes locked on the second counter of his watch.

 Scott barely had time to more than nod before John raced into their rehearsed speech.

 "So Dad's organised this as a surprise then?"

"Er…." Scott watched John's face working wordlessly, the dig in the ribs kick-starting him. "…….yeah, that's right."

"And Gordon doesn't suspect a thing?"

"Er; no."

The abrupt cessation of padding feet informed them both they had captured their audience, and they grinned into the knowing silence.

"When's Dad gonna tell him?"

"Think he's just gonna present him with it." Scott said, finding his flow.

"Boy is he in for one heck of a surprise; I can't wait to see his face when Dad shows him the blueprints for the _new_ Thunderbird Four." John Tracy sounded so convincing he almost had Scott believing him.

"Where is he anyway?"

"Dunno." Scott replied, knowing full well Gordon's ears were burning just round the corner, tuned into every word, and the mental image that went with it had the dimples on Scott's face deepening as he grinned broadly.  

As if on a telepathic link Gordon pressed further into the shadow, measuring his breathing.

"Well we've got to make sure he doesn't find out…..wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."

"Where are the plans for the new Thunderbird anyway?"

"Brains' has them in the office of his lab; got them well and truly under wraps."

"Then we'll have to make sure they stay that way; Dad's relying on us to make sure the kid doesn't find out." John winked.

* * *

Gordon Tracy held his breath until he was certain his two elder brothers had retreated to their rooms. Peeling himself away from the wall, he let out silent whoop of delight. His eyes burned intently as he replayed the conversation over in his head.

_'A new Thunderbird Four.'_

Dashing to his room to quickly shower and change, Gordon's mind worked feverishly as he hopped on first one leg, then the other while trying to slip into his jeans, tripping over the casual cluttered disarray of his room in his haste. His mind was bouncing back and forth images -as he shrugged into a clean shirt- and struggling to come up with a design for the new underwater craft. He had his ideas, but for the life of him Gordon couldn't draw up a mental picture and he knew the only answer would be to sneak a look for himself. 

'_The blue prints were in Brain's office_,' they'd said. His excitement mounted at the thought of sneaking a look at those blue prints. It wasn't going to be easy, but he _had _to see them. Checking the coast was clear he made his way stealthily along the corridor and down to the underground lab near TB2's hanger. He didn't know exactly where to look but he had a shrewd idea. Brains _could_ be a bit absent-minded at times, and he hoped this would be one of them. He fervently hoped the scientific genius was not in his lab, but figured he'd cross that bridge if and when he came to it. With hindsight he knew it was a little too soon after the sun tan lotion caper he'd played on John, to be caught in the vicinity of the lab again, but with any luck Brain's would have forgotten about that, especially, Gordon grinned, if he was wrapped up in this new design.

Unbeknown to him the reason he found it so easy was the fact everyone was monitoring his progress on the bio sensors with interest, including the absent-minded genius.

* * *

Chapter four will follow shortly.

More intrigues and Gordon suffers palpitations as he is drawn ever deeper into the 'Payback' trap.


	11. Chapter four

CHAPTER FOUR.

It hadn't been easy finding the blueprints and at times he'd broken out in a cold sweat checking his watch and the door constantly, sure he was going to be rumbled any second, but the lab remained reassuringly silent, even the miniature hidden cameras tracking his progress were silent, not that he'd have noticed them anyway, his attention was firmly riveted on one thing only and after several heart stopping minutes he located what he was looking for, in Brain's safe.

He gave a low whistle when he scanned the plans. She was a _beaut'_. From the notes he'd read, it appeared the parts weren't going to be ready for another couple of weeks, then Brains was going to assemble them on the base. Gordon groaned at the thought of having to wait _two whole weeks_ before he could slide into the pilot's seat and put her through her paces. But on the bright side it gave him fourteen days in which to dream of her, and by the time he came to test the reality; his dream technique would have been honed to perfection. He knew he'd have to make it appear as if he had no knowledge of the new TB4 when his parent presented him with her, that he'd have to feign surprise.  A spot of first rate acting would be called for. __

_'No problem, I can do that.' _It wouldn't be the first time he'd had to, as he cast his mind back to a _certain_ Christmas when he'd located and opened not only his, but everyone else's present's too. His smile dropped slightly when he thought how close he'd come to being caught out, but he'd wriggled his way out of that one by the skin of his teeth and no-one had been any the wiser. _'It will be the same now', _he vowed.

********

The five pairs of eyes were watching the accelerated cardiac rhythms of Gordon Tracy on the Bio sensors, but better than that, all had a ring side seat as they observed him in action on the monitor, rooting through various drawers, cabinets and folders in an ever frantic motion. All saw the haste and various expressions of panic crossing his face, the frequent glances at his watch and the door and all exchanged mutual broad grins as they watched him find then pour over the blueprints before returning them to their original place. All nodded with satisfaction as he exited the underground laboratory and headed back for the main part of the house.

"Right boys, he's on his way back. Part two of 'Payback' starts now. Make it look good."

"Sure thing Dad."

Jeff watched as Virgil, John and Scott headed for John's room then turned to Brains, "Right Brains, it's you and me next."

"Ah; er, y-yes Mr. Tracy."

********

"Virg' you ready? He should be walking past anytime now." John prompted.  

"What if he goes the other way?"

"He won't, trust me; this way leads to the pool."

"But he's already had one swim today."

"Since when has that stopped him? Trust me; he _will_ come past here."

John was right as Scott alerted them, all three striking various indolent poses as their brother strolled past John's open door, whistling a tuneless rendition of 'Survivor.' They waited, counting backwards, and were rewarded as the whistling stopped and seconds later Gordon's figure back peddled into view, coming to a halt and leaning nonchalantly against the door frame.

"What are you guys doing hanging around here?" he asked noting John, with his arms folded, slouched against the open door of his balcony, Virgil, hands in pocket, propped up by the bathroom door and Scott, hands clasped behind his head, lounging on John's bed.

"Just waiting for you bro'."

Gordon's eyes narrowed on Virgil, "Yeah right. So why _are_ you hanging around here?"

"Oh; we're trying to figure out the best way to raid those pies Grandma's just pulled from the oven…….." Virgil supplied. 

"………while Dad's in a top secret meeting with Brains….." Scott dropped casually.  

All noted the sudden arrested look on their younger brother's face.

"……..you coming?" John added nonchalantly. 

"To the meeting?"

"Uh, huh, weren't you listening; that's top secret." Scott replied.

"To figure out a way of getting those pies." Virgil reminded him.

"That's easy; just send in John, it works every time, and no to the latter."

"You ill Gordy?"

"Er, no. Just not hungry."

"Since when? If you're sickening for something……." Receiving a warning dig in the ribs, Scott turned his attention back to John. 

"We have a date with those pies, remember?" Catching the wink, Scott turned to Gordon, "Sure you won't join us?" He knew the answer.

******** 

Gordon waited only long enough to satisfy himself his brothers wouldn't be returning before tip-toeing to the study, unaware his presence had been reported. Pressing his ear up close to the door he strained to hear the conversation from within.

******** 

"This is going to cost more than I'd anticipated Brains, are you sure of your figures?"

"Uh, y-yes Mr. Tracy."

"In that case, I want you to hold off for a few days."

"D-do you m-mind me asking you w-why, Mr. Tracy?"

Jeff reflected for a moment, "When it comes to his work, I can't fault him, Gordon is professional, dedicated and completely trustworthy…….." Behind the door Gordon beamed, nodding in agreement. "…….outside of the rescue business he is a menace. I can't relax for wondering what prank he's dreaming up next. That boy of mine has being giving us all a hard time lately and I'm not sure he's ready for this new machine. So I'm going to put him on probation…….give him time to prove himself. If he shapes up I'll reconsider giving the go ahead for those blue-prints. In the meantime……."

Gordon's heart sank.

"B-but Mr. Tracy, a lot of time and m-money has already b-been expended o-on t-the new TB4 designs, y-you can't be thinking of s-scrapping it."

Gordon Tracy almost fell to the floor; his heart skipping a beat as he inhaled sharply. He pressed his ear closer to the door, unaware of his parent's ear, two inches from his own, in an identical position on the other side. Jeff pulled his head away from the door and grinned. "I wasn't thinking of scrapping TB4, more, shelving her until Gordon drops those practical jokes of his." Jeff winked at Brains.

'G_ive up my practical jokes!'_

"A-are you g-going to tell him sir?"

"Heck no! The whole point of this exercise is to see if that son of mine can do it without being informed.  Now if you've nothing else…….I have to conclude this meeting, I have some other business to attend to."

"Y-yes Mr. Tracy." Brains waited on Jeff's signal before opening the study door, neither man surprised to find the corridor empty. 

Jeff's face creased into a grin, "Okay Brains, now that he's gone, you've got the go ahead, you can make a start on those new designs now."

Brains nodded, "To the specifications you gave me?"

"Certainly…..oh and Brains?"

"Sir?"

"Those alarms are fool proof?"

"N-naturally, Mr. Tracy. The security devices h-have been calibrated to pick up the s-sensors in Gordon's watch. Should he a-approach within two hundred yards o-of the workshop the a-alarms will be activated and trigger the ah new devices in your watches." 

Jeff nodded, reassured, "Make sure you keep the locks and alarms activated when you're not down there, we wouldn't want him getting a glimpse of his new baby before we want him to."

"S-sure, thing Mr. Tracy."

********

Gordon paced back and forth in his room, oblivious of the empty crisp packets and discarded clothes he was ploughing through, the worry etched on his brow, as he absently chewed on his lip, replaying the conversation over in his head. His father _couldn't_ shelve those plans, he had to give the go ahead, he just _had to._ The ball was in his court as to whether his father gave the go ahead or not……but the price he had to pay? '_No practical jokes.'_ It was an intolerable penalty, he'd suffer withdrawal symptoms, but it would be worth it……._if_ he could last out that long…… and once he had his new baby…..well…… 

******** 

Chapter five should be up in a couple of days. 

Gordon's towing the line, or is he?


	12. Chapter five

CHAPTER FIVE.

"I must say, I can't believe the difference in that boy, are you sure you haven't supplanted him with a changeling when my back was turned?"

The deep rumbling laugh of Jefferson Tracy rent the air inside the lounge and he looked at his mother with affection. "Believe me Mother that boy is definitely Gordon, there _can_ only be one. It's amazing what a spot of eavesdropping can accomplish."

"And there was me thinking it had something to do with that new Thunderbird Four you've got Brains working on."

Jeff Tracy smiled as he recalled how the third part of his plan had been put into operation. He'd let his son cool his heels for several days and had then ensured Gordon was in the right place to conveniently overhear the go ahead given, unaware the work had been in progress several days already. Jeff could barely contain his mirth at the lengths Gordon had been going to; to try and sneak a look at the workshop were the new TB4 was under construction. Scott, John and Virgil had played their parts well, intercepting him at every turn, leaving a very frustrated Gordon, thwarted.

"I'm extremely pleased with his progress; I can hardly believe the change myself and not a practical joke in sight in nearly a fortnight. That _has_ to be a first. I almost miss them……._almost._" he emphasised as his mother cast him an incredulous look. 

"Now if you'll excuse me, this isn't getting my correspondence done," he said, reaching out and picking up his pen.

"What the deuce!" he exclaimed, examining the pen.

"What is it son?"

"Nothing Mother." Jeff replied, opening his desk drawer and fishing around for another pen. "Darn!"

"Jeff dear, is something wrong?" Mrs. Tracy watched in puzzlement as her son rifled through the drawers of his desk, picking out and discarding every pen he found, in an increasingly exasperated manner.

"Seems like we spoke to soon."

"Gordon?"

"Gordon!" he confirmed.

"What has he done this time?"

"Only removed all the refills from my pens, I _knew _it was too good to last," he paused, watching his mother struggle to contain her amusement. "…..but I'm not deterred yet though. He overlooked one thing……" Jeff ploughed on.

"What's that dear?" Mrs. Tracy chuckled behind her hanky.

"One of the oldest tools known to man…….the humble pencil. Darn it, the lead's broken……now where the heck's that sharpener of mine………._GORDON! _Get in here _now!_"

"Oh dear, seems like he thought of everything." Mrs. Tracy said, still chuckling discreetly.

"Yes Dad; what can I do for you?" Gordon breezed in with a jaunty smile.

"You can _start_ by returning my refills, _then_ I want my sharpener."

"Uh?"

"Don't give me that, I know it was you……knew it was too good to last….."

"But Dad, it wasn't me….."

"And don't lie either."

"I _swear_ Dad; I don't know what you're talking about."

 Jefferson Tracy studied the face of his fourth born, unaware of his second born just out of sight in the adjacent study listening intently with a huge grin on his face. It was the first time he'd genuinely laughed since the suntan lotion prank.

"What're you up to bro'?" Scott asked, noting John squatted with rapt attention by the open doorway.

"Shhhsh, listen!" John urged as Scott and Virgil joined him

Scott cocked his ear to the familiar sounds of his parent's irate voice. 

"Sounds like Gordon's getting a right royal ear bashing." Scott grinned, in response to John's. "Listen him swearing his innocence in there……"

"Don't know why he's bothering, it's not like anyone'd believe it wasn't him." Virgil quipped.

"It wasn't." Both brothers watched as silent paroxysms of laughter rocked their sibling. 

"John?" Scott caught on fast.

"You didn't?" Virgil twigged.

John nodded, "Just thought I'd add a little extra prank of my own, in addition to the one we already have in operation. Ah revenge."

"You gonna tell him it was you?"

John's grin broadened, "I'll let you know…..when this dye has worn off."

Scott watched as he gave them a conspiratorial wink and, with a roguish smile, strolled off down the corridor, whistling.

******** 

Chapter six follows on in a couple of days. 

Sneaking around and wily behaviour. But who's being sneaky and who's being wily?  And why is Jeff getting very little sleep?


	13. Chapter six

CHAPTER SIX. 

The time had come. Taking a deep breath Gordon wiped his hands and dropped the rag onto the workbench, having just replaced the zyolithic crystals in the Life-support unit wing of his sub'. The aquanaut had been counting down the hours, then minutes since breakfast. He knew every member of his family were about their allotted tasks, his father attending to his business interests, his brothers deeply immersed in their own maintenance schedules. Easing himself out his Thunderbird and exiting the pod of Thunderbird Two, Gordon rounded the corner, his objective, the nearby workshop.

"Going somewhere?"

Gordon jerked and craned his neck upwards at his artistic brother who was watching him from one of the observation ports of his Thunderbird.

"Er, no." he replied as he u-turned back towards the pod. "Damn!"

"Did you say something?"

'_What, have you got supersonic hearing?_' he mouthed silently at his eldest brother who was in the adjoining port. He heard them say something and chuckle. 

Back in his Thunderbird, Gordon decided to try again after a few minutes, once the dust had settled. But, much to his chagrin, he encountered them, a second time.

"Got itchy feet there Gordon?"

If only his eldest brother didn't look so smug while he was stood there, as if on guard.

"Anyone'd think you guys were watching me."

"You done the diagnostic checks on Thunderbird Four's Life-supports systems yet?"

"Why?"

"What about the replacement zyolithic crystals?"

"What are you fellas, my warders?"

"What makes you say that?"

"It feels like a damn prison 'round here these days; I feel like I'm forever tripping over one or the other of you. Anyone'd think I was a security problem or something…...and yeah, the crystals _have_ been replaced." He grumbled as he headed back to his sub', plotting and scheming. He missed the conspiratorial winks Scott and Virgil exchanged, as they resumed their 'watch.'

Gordon paced back and forth in Thunderbird Four's pod, his mind racing. His brothers were too wily, it was almost as if they knew he had an agenda, knew about the new Thunderbird, but they couldn't. That was top secret. Only three people were aware of her existence. His father, Brains and himself, and he was desperate to get a look.  What he needed was a distraction.

'_That was it!' _Gordon grinned, banging his fist into his palm as his eyes lit on the fire alarm. Okay, it was unethical, but desperate times called for desperate methods. His father would no doubt tear a strip of him, if he was caught and couldn't bluff his way out, but as long as he could sneak a look at that new machine Brains was working on, it would be worth it. How else was he expected to cause a distraction. It would be risky, but he could be there and back before he was missed and the 'surprise' he wasn't supposed to know anything about, wouldn't be spoiled. 

Gordon hit the button and waited. As he'd expected, Scott and Virgil shot into the hanger, issuing him orders as they looked for the source of the fire. He used the valuable few seconds to duck towards the labs workshop, the echoes of his distracted brothers wreaking a smile of satisfaction, as he made it unhindered.

His face dropped like a stone as the door of the lab slid back and he came face to face with the last man he wanted to see.

"Oh; er, hi there Gordon. I-if y-you'll just hang on a minute, I-I'll just get you the, er, tray."

Gordon stood there with a blank face, wondering what the heck Brains was on about. He wasted valuable seconds and by the time he'd rallied himself and stepped over the threshold, Brains had returned and thrust a used lunch tray in his hands.

"I-it is really good of you to o-offer to take it back to the kitchen for me. With all the work I-I  have on at the moment, I sort of forgot. Thankyou Gordon."

Gordon opened his mouth to speak, only to be faced with a closed door. 

******** 

"Ah, erm S-Scott, I thought you'd like to know I've er, dealt with that little problem….security hazard over. Thanks for the tip-off, a-although the alarms are in place."

"No problem. It's good to see those measures of yours working well."

"Oh, erm thankyou Scott."

"You're welcome. I'll let Dad know, you've had a 'visitor.' He'll be pleased to know our sneaky brother hasn't disappointed him and is living up to his name. Pity I missed his face, I'd have liked to have seen that."

"Me too." Virgil seconded.

Brains grinned at them from his watch, "Yeah, you would have liked it, he did sort o-of look a trifle despondent."

The brothers laughed at the understatement.

********

Later that day:

"Ow! That's my foot you're stood on."

"Sorry."

"Virg', get your elbow out of my ear." John winced. 

"Sorry."

"Umph!"

"That wasn't your head my wrench just connected with, was it?" The scowl he received as Scott rubbed at his crown had Virgil apologising for the third time in as many minutes. "S'not my fault."

"Oh yeah; it _was _your elbow……."

"…….And your foot and your wrench ….."

"Okay; okay. But there isn't room to swing a cat round here."

"We're not doing this to swing cats…..even if we had one." John said amiably.

Virgil looked at his partners in crime, his affable features lighting up, "Yup, I know. Gordon's going to love this."

Scott and John exchanged amused looks, "Yep, I reckon you're right." 

"I can't wait to see his face." John gave them both a rakish grin.

"It'll be worth waiting for." All agreed before recommencing work.

"Scott, mind where you're sticking that box spanner!"

"Er, sorry Virg'."

"John, drop us those pliers will ya……no, not the engineers, the snipe nose." 

"Here you go, have you done with the welding gun yet?" John asked, handing Virgil the small pliers.

"Ow!"

"Erm, sorry John." Virgil said as the welding gun slipped from his grip.

"At this rate I'll have no skin left on my knuckles. How come you take up so much room anyway?"

"Just lucky I guess." Virgil responded genially.

"Move over will you?" John said, rubbing his knuckles.

"Uh. Get your knee out of my back."

"That's not mine, it's John." Virgil quickly defended.

"Oh, er, right. Sorry Virg'.  John……"

"It's done. You know we'd be better working in pairs, less cramped."

"But that's not how Dad wants it done. Besides it's going to take us all our time with the three of us to get it finished before that slippery brother beats us to it. We've already scuppered him twice now. He almost beat us last time. Next time we might not be so lucky."

"With all the fail-safes Brains has put in place? You worry too much Scott."

"Maybe, but with Gordon it pays to be alert, he's one devious customer."

"How's it going boys?"

"Ow!" "Umph!"  "Argh!"

"Sorry boys." Jeff said casting them a conciliatory look. "Hey this is looking good." Jeff gazed around him appraisingly, "you boys have done well."

All three disentangled themselves and sat up, pleased.

"What brings you down here Dad?" Virgil enquired.

"Just been to see Brains, he's finished the first part of his 'Operation Payback.'"

"Already?"

Jeff nodded. "So I thought I'd see how much longer my boys are going to be."

"We're just about the start on the electrics, then there's just the er, paint job……about another sixteen, or so, working hours should do it." Scott enlightened him.

Jeff stood, toying with the loose coins in his pocket a satisfied look on his face as he cast an analytical eye over the craft his sons had been working hard on, every spare minute, while their brother was taking his daily swim or engaged in some other diversionary activity organised by Jeff.   

"So where is our errant brother anyway?" John asked, dropping a small flathead screwdriver which promptly disappeared down the back of Virgil's shirt.

"Ugh!"

"Sorry." John appeased.

 "In the pool." Jeff felt the corners of his mouth twitching as his sons collided and jostled with one another. "Virgil, how would you like to give Brains a hand?"

Secretly pleased to have a little more space to work in Virgil readily obliged.

With a final approving smile Jeff left the precincts of the main underground workshop/laboratory adjoining Brains' laboratory and headed back to where he'd left his fourth born son.

********

Jefferson Tracy rolled over and reached out an irritated hand, snatching at the source of the persistent bleeping that was nothing to do with the familiar rescue alarm sound.  He opened a bleary eye as the timbre of Brains' voice cut through the groggy fog of his sleep.

"Ah, er, Mr. Tracy, h-he's on his way a-again."

"Damn it all, but he's persistent, this is the third night this week. The lab's locked?"

"O-of course."

Okay Brains, I think it's time to take some drastic action." Jeff knew his sons would have been forewarned in the same instant he had been, all the watches alarms were interlinked. Scott confirmed this as his father gave orders for Gordon to be intercepted. 

"We're already on our way Dad."

After issuing further orders Jeff threw back his covers and reached for his dressing gown, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Normally alert, the nocturnal habits of his fourth born were catching up on him. Snapping on his watch, he headed for the underground lab, a determined look on his face.

********* 

Gordon Tracy frowned; '_how the heck had they managed that'_. He'd been careful, sneaky, underhand even, waiting until almost three in the morning after finding his daytime sorties had been in vain. This was the third time they'd headed him off_. 'How were they doing that? What was it with everyone round here, couldn't anyone sleep?'_ He'd expected every self respecting person to have the decency to stick to their beds so he could rummage around in peace, '_but no, not this lot……..damn it all_.' Doubling back would be pointless; he could hear Scott and Virgil close on his tail. '_And how come whenever he was within two hundred yards they seemed to come out of the woodwork_.' He was too late to get back via the monorail, if he could just by pass his brothers and get to the passenger lift chute first, he might make it back unseen….. 

"_GORDON_!" the exasperated tone of his parent halted him faster than a collision with a brick wall. With deliberate slowness he turned round. The conciliatory smile he plastered his father with had the effect of water off a duck's back. Drawing close he watched as one by one his brothers joined their parent, Brains lastly, all sporting the same enigmatic air. 

"One more trip out of bed and that new piece of kit you're hoping to adopt will end up at the bottom of the Pacific…._permanently_! Now _get_ back to bed and let us all get some sleep. You'll get your unveiling in the morning." 

Gordon didn't question how his parent knew he was down there, it was sufficient he did. Other things where whirling round in his head, '_The unveiling.'_ It was going to happen in the morning. _'His baby.'_ He didn't wait to be asked twice, but complied. His father and brother's hadn't waited to see if he was following them, it was as if they took it for granted he would. They weren't wrong. 

******** 

Chapter seven, the great unveiling, to follow shortly. The day has arrived, at last, and it is one Gordon will never forget.


	14. Chapter seven

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

********

Gordon's eyes opened. Not languidly, not groggily as someone does after a disturbed night but, with a shutter speed of 1/250sec. His amber orbs stared unseeing at the ceiling for several seconds as he gathered his thoughts. And in those seconds the full force of the night's events hit him and his heart skipped a beat. Throwing back the sheet Gordon dived for the nearest item of clothing, a tee-shirt off the floor and was half way to the door when it occurred to him that making a good impression this morning might, perhaps, be a good idea, especially in view of his father's mood in the early hours. After all, showering would only take a few minutes, shaving, two more. There'd be breakfast to get through, maybe even a lecture after his latest nocturnal foray that had been scuppered, and after that, on his parent's consent, he had a date. This brought a grin to his good-natured face as he dived for the shower; he wanted to look his best for his first introduction.

"Morning." He greeted sunnily, his face wreathed in smiles. The mood around the breakfast table was more sombre than his own cheerful mood. "Morning Dad, Grandma."

"Son." Jeff nodded.

"What's up with everyone?" he said, dropping into his chair and reaching for the plate of pancakes and piling his plate high.

"Some of us had very little sleep last night…" Scott supplied, watching as his laid back brother scooped liberal amounts of maple syrup into the mountain of food.

"Again!" John finished, as Gordon continued swirling the syrup into patterns.

"Who's eaten all the pancakes?" Virgil moaned, as he entered the kitchen and took his place at the table. His eyes narrowed on Gordon's plate. '_I might have known.'_

"Your father tells me you were out of bed again last night."

Gordon stopped chewing, cast a glance at his grandmother, then a peek at the head of the table and swallowed hard.So, that was it. They were still sore about last night. But that was _hours_ ago,_ 'lighten up guys'.  _In his shoes they'd have done the same to get a sneak preview of their new Thunderbird. He was only doing what they all would in the same circumstances._  'Okay, appeasement time.'_ Adopting his best penitent expression Gordon cast a conciliatory smile around the table, "Sorry about that folks. It won't happen again…..how come you all knew I was down there anyway?" he asked, his eyes on the fresh batch of pancakes Kyrano had just brought to the table for Virgil.

"How come you knew we had something down there you'd want to see?" John bounced back, knowing full well why, but determined to keep the upper hand.

"Okay, that'll do. It's clear Gordon has 'discovered' our little 'surprise'. I for one feel there's no point in keeping him waiting, especially if it means an end to the nocturnal reconnaissances. As soon as breakfast's over we'll take you down there, then you can see for yourself what we've been working on." 

"I can come too Jeff?"

Jeff smiled, "Certainly Mother, you too Tin-Tin and Kyrano, if you'd care to join us…..for the 'unveiling.'"

Both readily accepted.

"Right that's settled then, now let me finish my breakfast in peace, thankyou." The head of International Rescue disappeared behind his newspaper to signal the subject was closed.

********

Gordon stood impatiently in the underground boathouse, listening to the water lapping along the edges of the jetty, wondering how much longer he was expected to wait. Breakfast, had seemed to go on for ever. He'd finished ages ahead of the rest, even with a second helping of pancakes, but knew better than to push his father, who seemed to be deliberately taking his time. Even now, he didn't appear to be in any hurry, waiting for Scott to reappear from behind the huge industrial sheet that hid his new TB4 from view. Gordon had automatically turned towards the construction workshop and had been puzzled when he'd been pulled in the opposite direction.

"Hey, where're we going? I thought my new Thunderbird was in Brains' workshop."

"That's what we wanted you to think." Scott said.

"We moved her, she's in the boathouse." Virgil enlightened him.

"_Boathouse!"___

"Couldn't have you tripping anymore alarms left right and centre could we son?"

Accepting the logic of this, Gordon had allowed himself to be led to the underground cavern. 

Finally Scott poked his head from behind the sheet and nodded.

"Ready son?"

"Ready Dad." Scott affirmed.

"Not so fast Gordon," Jeff put out a restraining hand, "there's a few things I'd like to say first……a little 'unveiling' speech if you like."

Gordon shuffled impatiently, conscious of his family around him.

"As you know, we've been working on a little 'surprise' for you. Brains and your brothers' have been working overtime on this, with my full backing. I'd like you to bear that in mind. Your ingenuity at finding out this little 'secret'," (Gordon missed the conspiratorial looks being passed around) "is admirable, so is your conscientious dedication to duty." Gordon beamed. "But it is not for those qualities that I've organised this 'reward' for you. It is for your unstinting devotion to your off duty activities…..so for that reason, and without further ado…..Scott, do the honours would you?"

"Sure thing Dad."

Gordon sensed his family edge forward slightly as the cord was pulled, but his eyes remained firmly locked on the sheet as it dropped. The air fairly crackled expectantly. No-one moved, no-one spoke, all eyes were fixed on the frozen expression of the aquanaut.

******** 

Chapter eight: Gordon's never short for words…….until now.


	15. Chapter eight

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

Gordon sensed his family edge forward slightly as the cord was pulled, but his eyes remained firmly locked on the sheet as it dropped. The air fairly crackled expectantly. No-one moved, no-one spoke, all eyes were fixed on the frozen expression of the aquanaut.

"You like it bro'?" Scott asked.

"………………...!" 

"You're impressed eh?" Virgil grinned jovially.

"………………...!"

"We thought you'd be the first to appreciate all the work we put into designing her." Scott said lightly.

"She's a beaut' don't you think, Gordy?" John pressed teasingly as Gordon's jaw finally dropped open.

"Come and have a closer look." Virgil pulled his unresisting brother forward. "We've spared no expense….."

"Yeah, and thought of everything." John added.

"……………….!"

"We've even added an additional turbo booster, which you must admit is an inspired idea. Here let me show you." John leaned down and slipped the attachments to either side of the vessel. "Well, what do you think? Impressed?"

"……………….!"

"Give him a little space boys, he's overwhelmed. He just needs a little time to take it all in, don't you son?"

"…………........!"

For perhaps a full minute Gordon's jaw worked wordlessly as his eyes raked slowly over the creation before him. When he eventually found his power of speech it was to utter a croaked, "I'm dreaming right?"

"We can pinch you to prove you're not." Scott offered dryly.

Gordon shook his head numbly as he tried to come to terms with the vision before him.

"There's lighting too. Scott, throw the switch will you?" Virgil prompted.

Gordon blinked as dozens of dazzling multi coloured neon bulbs began flashing randomly in all directions, to reveal what at first glance looked to be a garishly decorated floating joke shop, sat atop a large hideously caricatured pedalo in the shape of a grinning frog. It was only as he studied it that the full implications of the design became apparent. In a numb daze his eyes skated over The turbo 'attachments', a pair of over size oars, a cross between a pair of broom sticks and elongated frogs legs, protruded mockingly, either side of the 'craft.' The front of the 'craft' housed two outsized headlamps, fashioned to resemble 'eyes', in the middle of which protruded a large cerise plastic alligator figurehead that appeared to be grinning manically at him. The top heavy over sized joke shop had been fashioned from several poles to form an open cage, with a makeshift rope attached to the top of each corner to produce a four sided wash line. From this hung every joke paraphernalia conceivable, dangling from every available inch, like so much cluttered washing. But it was the interior that got the biggest reaction from Gordon as he dragged his reluctant gaze over it and winced, appalled. The centre piece, the pilot's seat, comprised of a bold white toilet, with an inventively 'designed' adult sized baby chair attached to it. The loo seat, adorned with dramatic animal print material, added the finishing touch. Just behind it a large open flat umbrella, atop a six foot sturdy pole, completed the spectacle. From it hung reminders of every prank Gordon had pulled in recent weeks, empty paint tubes, suntan lotion bottles, a fake fish skeleton, a bag of imitation beetles to name but a few, dangled from its tips. A Jolly Roger flag topped the line-up.

"What _is_ this?" he asked numbly of no-one in particular.

"This is 'Payback' your new baby." Scott supplied.

Gordon shook his head dully as if that would somehow negate what he was seeing.

"It's our way of showing you our appreciation for all the pranks you've perpetrated on us." John added.

"We thought a little reciprocation was in order……." Scott continued.

"So we've returned the compliment. See we've even painted her name on the side." Virgil finished. 

And that brought Gordon's numbed attention to the garish paintwork. He cringed at the multi kaleidoscopic splodges.

"They _are_ all your favourite colours." Virgil defended.

Gordon had an insane urge to smile, but controlled it. "It looks like someone used it for target practice and just let rip." 

"How'd you guess?" Scott's lips twitched. 

"We had a real fun time doing that didn't we Virg'?" John grinned.

"Sure." Virgil replied. "It's been a _real _labour of love……Of course; a great deal of technical knowledge also went into creating just the right 'effect!'"

"_Technical_ _knowledge_! This monstrosity?" 

"Oh but you must admit this is really _you_ Gordon." Scott teased.

"No way! _My_ jokes have class!" Gordon spluttered. "This _thing _is the last word in bad taste. You fellas shoulda come to me before embarking on this…..this…….hybridised floating garbage can! It should be taken out into the bay and sunk, if it could stay afloat that long!"

"Hey, show a little respect. You'll hurt her feelings." Scott chided.

"Tut, tut, all that work and no appreciation, not even a thankyou." John admonished.

"What did you expect, a medal?"  Gordon snapped.

Was it his imagination or had the atmosphere suddenly changed.

"You could at least take a closer look before you start mocking her." Virgil coaxed.

"No way, I'm as close to that monstrosityas I intend to get!" he scorned.

 "Well now that's a pity……" Jeff said.

Gordon shook his head again; a mixture of exasperation, disappointment and grudging admiration warred within him as his eyes flicked once more over the thing he'd been looking forward to seeing. "I don't believe it…..what about those blue prints, I didn't dream those."

"Been sneaking around a bit haven't you son?"

Gordon had the grace to flush, but wasn't in a mood to back down. "Yeah, but I still saw 'em."

Jeff studied his son for a moment, the defiant amber eyes, the stubborn chin and came to a decision, "Actually son, you're right."

A frisson of interest flared in the aquanaut as he faced his parent. "There _is_ a Thunderbird Four?_" _he asked on a ray of hope, holding his breath expectantly.

Looks were exchanged.

Gordon felt his heart skip a beat. "Well?"

Jeff took his time. The air was electric as he slowly nodded.

"Well what're we waiting for……?"

"Hold it son, not so fast!"

"Huh?"

"There's one little catch."

Gordon eyed his father warily, "What exactly?"

"You have to 'earn' it, pass a test." Jeff elucidated.

******** 

Chapter nine: the penultimate chapter, sees Gordon getting his 'Payback' in _full_ from his brothers.


	16. Chapter nine

CHAPTER NINE. 

A frisson of interest flared in the aquanaut as he faced his parent. "There _is_ a Thunderbird Four?" he asked on a ray of hope, holding his breath expectantly. 

Looks were exchanged.   

Gordon felt his heart skip a beat. "Well?"

Jeff took his time. The air was electric as he slowly nodded.

"Well what're we waiting for……?" 

"Hold it son, not so fast."

"Huh?"

"There's one little catch." 

Gordon eyed his father warily, "What exactly?"

"You have to 'earn' it. Pass a test." Jeff elucidated.

"Test?"

"Nothing to taxing, it's well within your capabilities."

"Written?"

"Erm, no." Jeff replied, "More hands on, practical to be precise."

Gordon slowly digested this. "What exactly do I have to do?" he asked reluctantly.

"On board your new Thunderbird Four……"

"That garbage pile!"

 His father gave him a level look. "…….something's been hidden. All you have to do is find it. If you're successful, Brains will give you your new model."

Gordon cast another glance over his 'Thunderbird' as it bobbed innocuously by the jetty. 

"Pity you refused to board her." Jeff added dryly watching the play of emotions on his son's face.

"I might reconsider……." Gordon capitulated, shrugging nonchalantly. "What am I looking for?" Was it his imagination, or was his parent hesitating?

"It's your medal."

Gordon's jaw dropped, "You _didn't_?" he said, turning to his brothers. 

"We did." They collectively confirmed.

"Is nothing sacred round here?"

"_That's_ rich!" Scott scoffed.

Ignoring that, Gordon stepped forward.

"There's just one more catch……" Scott dropped in casually.

This sounded ominous. Gordon turned cautiously. Why did he get the feeling his brothers were relishing something, "Oh yeah?"

"Weeell, we didn't want to make it to easy," Virgil said lightly, "So we added a little interest……"

"Yeah; just one or two little touches to give you something to work for." John drawled.

"Just get on with it will ya!"

All three shrugged.

"There are a few er; booby traps. Alarm bells will go off when you make the wrong choice." Said Virgil.

"Don't you mean _if_?"

"If." they acknowledged.

"Oh, and er Gordon, three strikes and you're out." Scott added.

"Out?"

"You don't get your new Thunderbird." he clarified.

Gordon digested this. It was clear from their faces they meant it. "You three geniuses are enjoying this aren't you?" Gordon said, fielding each of the amused expressions. "Okay, it's not so tough, I could a' dreamt up better in my sleep!" he bluffed. With that he jumped aboard, grabbing at nearest thing to hand as his new 'Thunderbird' lurched unstably, overbalancing him. His eyes widened when he saw the green stain on his hand. He looked up straight into the quietly smiling face of John, and had the hardest job preventing a corresponding one of his own breaking out. With his eyes on John, Gordon didn't see the protruding lever until he nudged it and set off the warning bells. He whirled round and sucked in his breath as the umbrella shuddered, folded around him, and released its cargo in full. Gordon gasped and staggered, blinking through the thick vale of goo that covered him, as a riot of laugher suddenly erupted. Swiping at the jokes, dangling around him, Gordon gaped in shock at the fuzzy laughing images. 

"Oh, didn't we mention that bit," and at his stunned expression, "erm, guess not." Scott said.

"Sorry about the oversight." John grinned. "As you _now_ know there are added little 'bonuses to the booby traps. Some of them are _loaded_!" 

"That just leaves two left son, oh and, er, I'd be careful not to slip on that gunge, wouldn't want you accidentally letting……"

"Okay, okay, when you've finished toying with me…..."  Gordon grittily brushed aside the laughter and turned slowly, scraping the gunk from his face and making a detailed study of the diverse range of controls, levers and dials. With reluctant admiration he finally began to acquire an appreciation of his brothers' ingenuity.  '_If only I'd been in on this…..'_ he thought, then stopped himself. '_What am I talking about?' _Gordon scrutinised the detailed interior. '_That looks promising,' _he deliberated, examining the rear panel which comprised of four compartments. He studied them for a full minute, double checking that none of the knobs had been 'treated' by John. '_Four to choose from. Okay Gordon, you can do this, but which one?' _selecting one and adopting a steady hand, he cautiously eased the handle forward. Satisfied by the reassuring silence he confidently lowered the panel fully. He only registered its contents two seconds after it had hit him and as the siren screeched a belated warning. The barrel load of cushion fillings hit like a gale force wind and covered him so effectively no part was left uncovered. Brushing at the clusters of fibrous particles, clinging to the gunk, only served to make them cling even harder to him. Gordon took a deep breath, spitting and blowing the fibres from his face, determined not to rise to the uproarious laughter that had renewed with greater force.

"That's….."

"Yeah, I know!" came his pithy retort. Gordon cautiously inched his way through a one hundred and eighty degree turn and studied the 'control' panel. Noticing a promising looking small compartment, he tentatively he eased his way around the 'pilot's' seat and reached out, freezing at the sharp intakes of breath. Looking up at the warning head shakes he tried to determine their sincerity. Concluding it was a ploy to deter him, Gordon continued in his quest. The sudden, mild shock had him yanking his hand back. Frowning, he studied the sheepish faces. "Which clown thought that one up?" he growled, flexing his fingers.

John grinned at him, "I'm afraid I have to take the credit for that."

"Gee, thanks bro'! I thought you loved me." 

"I do. And anyway, we _did _try to warn you."

"Are there anymore like that?"

"Erm, no, it was a one off."

"You have a sick sense of humour, you know that?"

"Gee, and I thought that was your department." John bounced back with a grin.

Shaking his head resignedly, Gordon cast about for another likely hiding place. The trouble was, there wasn't one…..unless…..His eyes locked on the 'pilot's' toilet/high chair, with a grimace. "Where'd you get _that _from?" he scorned.

"Don't ask."

Locking eyes with Scott, Gordon shrewdly baited him, "Is it clean?" 

"What d'you take us for?" Scott replied, affronted.

"Don't ask!" he answered, stifling a grin and turning his attention back to the 'pilot's seat'. It looked feasible. There was no where else his medal could be inside this tub. He looked to his brothers, but they weren't giving anything else away. He glanced across at his parent, grandparent, Tin-Tin and Kyrano, but apart from their highly amused expressions, they weren't giving anything away either. There was nothing for it…..he edged closer, grimacing as the gunk and fluff squelched, as he squatted down. His expression added to his audience's amusement. A sudden hush descended as Gordon inched forward and eased the lid up a fraction, trying to peer into the depths. Unable to see anything Gordon took a deep breath and, with painstaking slowness, inched the lid a fraction higher hoping for a better glimpse, his ears cocked for the tell tale siren. Nothing! Confident, but still cautious, he raised the lid a further inch. If he could just ease his fingers in, he might be able feel for his medal. Gordon pushed carefully into the darkened depths, feeling the cool air around his fingers as he probed about. He almost leapt as his fingers brushed something. Holding a tight rein on his excitement Gordon reached out again, stretching his fingers to close around the ribbon. His excitement mounted as he mastered a firm grip, but still he didn't throw caution to the wind, the object of his goal and his medal were uppermost in his mind as he gently tugged on the ribbon. His eyes widened as the sounds of gurgling assailed his ears. "What the! Hey, what's going on here?"  He demanded.

"Looks like you've pulled the plug bro'"

"Huh?"

"The boat's going down."

"You call this a boat!" he said as water gushed over the sides of the pilot's 'seat' and rapidly filled the boat.

"Yeah you're right; she IS a work of art." Virgil grinned.

"Hey, what about my medal, I've searched every inch of this bucket of spanners!" Gordon yelled, now knee deep in water.

"But not the outside." Scott hinted.

"Huh? There isn't anywhere outside!" Gordon shouted, leaping onto the front. Globules of gunk dripped from him, causing him to slide and reel as he looked wildly around. The spare part tub lurched, tilting dangerously as the weight of the 'attachments' forced it deeper into the water. Gordon clutched frantically at one of the headlamps to brace himself as his 'Thunderbird' began to sink at an alarming rate and that was when he saw it, gleaming in the figurehead of the alligator. With no time to think he reached inside the jaws, pulling on the silken ribbon, as the water raced over the sides, swamping him.

Feeling too mulish, Gordon brushed aside Scott's proffered hand, overbalanced and cartwheeled backwards into the water as his 'Thunderbird' gave a death knell and sank in the churning waters. Kicking for the surface, he was met with horde of laughter. 

"Don't all dive in at once!" he ribbed as he trod water while small globules of gunk and fluff floated off around him.

"Don't worry dear, I'd have saved you."

"Thanks Grandma." He said dryly, clutching his medal and kicking for the side, this time accepting the proffered hands of Scott and John.

"You remind me of a sodden duck."

"Thanks dad!" he said wringing at his clothes, that still had persistent globules of gunk and fluff sticking to them. "Right that concludes my side of the deal." He said, holding out the ribbon. "All you guys have to do now is deliver your end of the deal……hey! This isn't my medal!" 

"Well you didn't really think we'd risk your real one did you?" Scott supplied as Gordon handed over the copy to his father, with a frown.

"Well done son."

"Yeah, well done." Scott went to slap him on the back, then changed his mind.

"You tricked me." Gordon stared incredulously at his brothers.

"I thought you liked tricks." Scott responded blasély. 

"Pity about the 'Jolly Joker.'" John said wistfully at the final bubbles glugging to the surface.

"Best place for it!" Gordon retorted tersely, following his line of vision. "Now, if it's not too much trouble how about you fulfil your side of the deal."

"Some people have no appreciation for a work of art." Virgil declared, "you could at least mourn her……..show some respect."

"Yeah, we put so much work into her……"

"Aw my heart bleeds, now what about my new sub'!"

"I'll check with Brains, see if he's ready." Jeff replied.

"And this had better be on the level."

"Believe me son, Brains has been working hard on this, and it _is _on the level." Halting in his call to cast a critical look over his son, Jeff said, "don't you want to change first?"

"Nah, the water's my second birthday suit."

Jeff shook his head at the picture his son presented and sighed.  "Okay, let's go."

"Where?"

"To the workshop, naturally."

Gordon didn't need to be asked twice.

******** 

Chapter ten: The final chapter. Brains' is amused. Gordon finally gets his new Thunderbird, and Scott has one last surprise for his brother.  And what was the second 'Payback' they'd been toying with.


	17. Chapter ten

CHAPTER TEN.

"I'll check with Brains, see if he's ready." Jeff replied.

"And this had better be on the level."

"Believe me son, Brains has been working hard on this and it _is _on the level." Halting in his call to cast a critical look over his son, Jeff said, "don't you want to change first?"

"Nah, the water's my second birthday suit."

 Jeff shook his head at the picture his son presented and sighed. "Okay let's go."

"Where?"

"To the workshop, naturally."

Gordon didn't need to be asked twice. He reached the monorail first and would have barged on.

"SON!"

"Huh……? Oh; sorry Grandma, after you." he said, colouring slightly.

Mrs. Tracy stepped past him with a reproving look. Gordon boarded last, trying not to notice as everyone hitched to one side as he squelched past them. The aquanaut found himself relegated to a lone corner, with small globules of gunk and white fluff dripping quietly down him. Noticing the covert glances, Gordon's lips pursed indignantly. "What's ya problem fellas?"

"How long have you got?" Scott drawled with a grin.

"Doesn't this thing go any faster?" Gordon demanded offhandedly, trying to avoid the smirks.

"The prototype isn't going anywhere Gordon." His father replied, watching in mild fascination the way the fluff laden goo continued to slide down his son.

Everyone whipped back as Gordon barged forward before the monorail had fully stopped outside the lab/ maintenance workshop. A minute later he was issuing a silent challenge to the engineering genius who was favouring him with a very penetrating stare as he took in his appearance. Gordon folded his arms fiercely against the twitching lips and turned to his parent. "Am I going to have to listen to another speech or are you just gonna let me have her?" he stated, as he stood in front of the pod construction block.

Jeff cast him a sardonic look before turning to his employee.

"Try to overlook my son's rudeness; he's had a _disappointing_ morning. It didn't quite measure up to his expectations."

"But it did ours." Mrs Tracy murmured.

Taking in his appearance Brains lowered his eyes, coughing, "I get the picture, or rather, I wish I had. I-I sort of wish I-I'd been there." He stammered, working hard to remain straight faced.

"Oh, don't mind me guys…."

"Oh but you can be," Scott cut in, and to Gordon's horror held up the latest thing in miniature camcorders and pressed a button, "as often as you like. Well you didn't think we'd let an event like that take place without making sure we had some memento of it?"

"Yeah I'm really looking forward to a replay of it. Did you see that bit when the cushion filling hit him…..that was my favourite." Virgil shook his head laughingly.

"Oh I liked the bit where he toppled backwards." John responded. "What about you Scott?"

"I reckon it has to be the look on his face when he pulled the plug……priceless."

"Well I think the look on his face when you pulled back the sheet tops that." Tin-Tin said.

Mrs. Tracy and Kyrano nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I'm really looking forward to a replay of that, especially in slow motion." Virgil grinned.

"Don't forget the freeze frame. I may even take some stills of that……something to amuse me when I'm back on the station." John matched Virgil's grin. "I can't wait to see Alan's face when he gets a load' a  this."

"You guys are evil……..is that the only copy?"

"Don't even go there!" Scott warned, "you owe us this after all the stunts you've pulled. Consider you got of lightly."

"You call what I've just been through _light_! You're sadists. The only reason I'm not prosecuting is because I've still got the real thing to come, so Brains, when you've finished smirking….."

"I-I'm not smirking Gordon."

"Yeah right….my Thunderbird. It's not much fun stood here in this stuff….."

"…..a second birthday suit…….you said." Jeff reminded him dryly.

"Birthday suit?" Brains queried.

"How about my Thunderbird."

"Oh, er, okay. In all the er, e-e-excitement I almost forgot. She's in the ah, pod. Erm, just a moment." Brains flicked the switch and all inched forward as the huge green pod door lowered smoothly down.

"Ahm, Gordon, may I present you with Thunderbird Four, mark two."

Gordon peered into the darkened depths, "Where the heck is she?"

"Ah." Brains activated the conveyor ramp, "sorry about that Gordon."  

Every eye was fixed on Gordon as he watched the two by one foot box slide down the ramp coming to a juddering halt at his feet. Slowly he bent down and lifted it up, his brows furrowed as his eyes locked onto Brains, a puzzled look in the amber depths. He shook the box, peering deeper into the pod.

"So where is she?"

"Ahm, you're holding her, and I-I'd take it easy with her," 

"…………?"

"Some of the er, components a-are only 'glued'." 

"Huh?"

Bemused, Gordon watched as Brains efficiently dealt with the box's miniature combination lock. The sides lurched and dropped down to reveal…… a perfect replica of the TB4 blue prints, which he handed with great ceremony to the aquanaut. Gordon's jaw dropped for the second time that day, as he gaped numbly at the small object. Vaguely he was aware of Brains speaking, "…………….a-and as you can see she is a perfect replica o-of the blue prints you saw in my office, right down to the um interior…..all seventeen a-and two third inches of her, come, take a closer look."

"Two third inches?"

"Ah, yeah, that's right."

"There you go son, your new baby."

"I can't believe I fell for this twice…….. you said it was on the level."

"But it is son. She is a perfect working replica of those blueprints…..all seventeen inches of her."

"Don't forget the _two thirds._" Gordon intoned dryly.

Jeff nodded with a twinkle in his eye, "and the two thirds."

"A-as you can see Virgil has painted her in your favourite colour. O-of c-course if you don't like the choice o-of yellow or anything else, I can always change it……."

"How about the size! I had it in mind to sit _in _it, not _on_ it……."

"…..and there's the remote control. I-I've tested her out in the pool a-and she pretty seaworthy, i-in spite of the er, 'glue', but what's a little 'glue' between friends, hmm?"

Gordon stared hard at him then turned and began scrutinizing each of his family in turn.

"I suppose you guys think this is funny!"

"Er, not at all Gordy." Scott mouthed.

"Aw what the heck…..sure we do." Virgil grinned.

 Gordon's fingers tightened round the model in a menacingly subconscious gesture at the mirth filled faces.

"Erm, I-I wouldn't do that, she's the only one of her kind, a-a lot of work has gone into her."

"Does this thing have weapons capabilities?" the medal winner asked with deceptive mildness, his eyes still locked on his family.

"Erm, no _she _doesn't, why?" Brains asked with a slightly injured air.

Gordon shrugged, "Pity, it would have given me the greatest pleasure to put it to some good use, namely a firing squad I had in mind……" he battled on through the tuts, "now I'll just have to think up something else……in my own good time."  '_But for now I need a shower and something to restore my humour, while I dream of getting even….. and that film.' _Thrusting the model unceremoniously at Brains he headed back for the monorail. 

"You know son, you should quit while you still can….."

"With the ammo we've got in this baby, you'd be wise to listen." Scott said holding up the miniature camcorder. "It wouldn't take two minutes to email an attachment to all your buddies.

Gordon stiffened, but didn't take the bait; he knew his brother to well and would have gambled a month's wages Scott was bluffing.

But the next words halted him in his tracks.

"Yeah, and if that doesn't sway you,  just be glad we didn't pick 'Payback Two.'"

Gordon turned slowly to face Virgil. He wasn't going to ask, he absolutely categorically was _not_ going to ask. Burning with curiosity, he might be but he was definitely determined not to give in……categorically no way.

"Sooooo, what was 'Payback Two? It _couldn't_ have been worse than this one!" he said between clenched lips.

The brothers' exchanged conspiratorial looks.

"Well you smirking musketeers, what was it?"

"Oh we were toying with the idea of feeding Eglantine (_Alan's pet alligator) _with a dose of Sedonicus Americanus." Virgil supplied.

"What?"

"Theramine to you. The stuff Dr. Orchard and his assistant Hector McGill developed, and then tossing you into her pen………Alan was _really_ in favour of that option."

The way Gordon's mouth worked wordlessly, was priceless.

********

"You know Jeff; I don't think he fully appreciated your little 'Payback'."

Jeff shrugged, watching his son's disappearing back. "You know Mother; you could be right. But never mind, he'll soon get over it."

"Do you suppose that's cured him of his little pranks?"

"Do you really need to ask mother?"

Mrs. Tracy smiled, knowingly.

"So when are you going to tell him about the _real_ upgrades you've had Brains and the boys working on, for Thunderbird four?"

A singular smile came over the head of International Rescue and his lips twitched.

"All in good time mother, all in good time." 

********

The end.

******** 

Well that's it. I hope you liked it. My only intention in writing this series was to bring a little light hearted humour. If I have achieved this and made you laugh, or raised a smile, then I am happy. Sorry I didn't give Gordon a TB4, but how do you improve on perfection? Thankyou for taking the time to read this series and thankyou to all my loyal band of readers who left such warm genuine reviews, and to all those who left reviews. Also a special thankyou to Purupuss for proof reading along with her helpful advice. To those I haven't been able to email a thankyou to; I do so now, your comments have been very much appreciated, thankyou.

Best wishes, Mad-Friend.

P.S.: I have only the greatest love and admiration for those Tracy's.


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